


Chronicles of the Sword in the Stone Book 1: Meet Hazel

by savagethewolverine



Category: The Sword in the Stone (1963)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savagethewolverine/pseuds/savagethewolverine
Summary: Arthur, Merlin, and Archimedes are back in this all new sequel to one of Disney's most fascinating animated tales. Taking place after the events of the first movie, Arthur now realizes his destiny as he assumes the throne of England. But the transition isn't seamless as the forces of evil conspire to challenge his rule and seal his doom. Luckily, friends both old and new are ready to run to his aid, including a certain mischievous redhead who has her own dreams to be realized. Please join us in this story of growing up, destiny, and adventure, and revel in the magic and heart that the world has been denied too long in one of most needed sequels in the Disney library.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Squirrel.

Spring had sprung that fine day in the woods of the Forest Swarthy. The birds had finally returned after their long journey south and began to fill the thick wood with their merry songs. All of the woodland animals were coming out of their hibernation and surveyed the world with renewed vigor. The deer were out in the glen, quietly helping themselves to the fresh green turf grown tall due to the snow of the previous season. Tiny cottontail rabbits were hopping to and fro from hole to hole with joyous leaps. Even the treetops had come alive as multiple squirrels of all sizes and shapes skittered across the branches.

What could stir such an assortment of creatures together, you may ask? It was quite simple really. Spring fever had taken them in full swing, and it was now time for the youth of this generation to seek out their future mates. It was a joyous occasions, and both the males and the females were doing all their tiny minds could think of to find the mates.

However, there was one missing from the bunch. Up in a tall tree, within a knothole, one could see a tiny red squirrel. She was a fair creature with slim and petite features, and a dark red bushy tail behind her. She was incredibly appealing, and more than once this day has several young males attempted to make her theirs. Unfortunately, she would not be swayed, and they would eventually leave in defeat.

This activity never went unnoticed. From a lower branch, she was constantly observed by another red squirrel female, whom was much more corpulent than she. She watched her for several hours as the squirrels went on with their courting rituals, and she observed how the young one resisted every suitor that approached. At last, when all the newly made couples had departed for their respective trees, she approached her. When she had at last reached her knothole home, the older female could see that she wore a long face of despair, and every now and again she would sigh dejectedly.

She began to chatter at the youngling in an attempt to discover what the source of her displeasure was, but she received no reply. In truth, it was no mystery as to what had upset the young squirrel; as a matter of fact, the older one had witnessed herself what had caused it. One month before the hibernation had started, both squirrels had come to see two strange squirrels come to their forest, and both had sought to make them their mates. It had been a mirth-filled day in their lives, but it had ended badly when they realized that they had been humans all along. The older squirrel had taken it pretty well, for she possessed a great disdain and fear of humans, but the younger one apparently did not share her feelings. That day had filled her with nothing but confusion and sadness, both of which had never left her mind or her broken heart.

The older squirrel squeaked at her a minute longer in an attempt to console her, but eventually gave up and went out in search of a mate of her own. The younger squirrel remained in her tree slightly longer, her tiny mind drawing back to that day. She had seen him as she was scampering across the trees, and she had been immediately smitten. She remembered how he had touched her nose in what she had assumed was a sign of affection and how much joy it had brought her. She remembered the fun little chase they had gone through that she had viewed as one of the several acts taken in a courting ritual. She even recounted how she had taken on a hungry wolf when his tail got stuck in a fallen tree branch. It should have been perfect, but instead her actions were for naught. In the end, the boy had been a human, and she had been rendered a fool.

Her sorrow could have easily kept her in that tree for the rest of her life; however, the call of nature stirred her stomach with the need for food. With a dejected sigh, she arose, climbed to the ground, and began to search for the acorns she had buried prior to hibernation. In an attempt to remove the boy from her mind, she began to wonder on why she always gathered and buried acorns before going into hibernation? Better yet, what compelled her to go into hibernation every winter in the first place? Sure she probably couldn't survive the cold winter, but what was it that drove her? It was one of the most confusing conundrums of her life, and more she thought of it the more she realized that it had to be the same exact thing that prevented her from forgetting the boy. Ask any squirrel with a mate, and they would tell you the exact same thing: the instant they had chosen their mate, they would forever devote their lives to them.

She wanted to scream. It was this deranged desire that was giving her this grief, and she was powerless to disarm it. She cursed herself, as well as for being a squirrel. That was her real problem: she was a squirrel, an animal. Every animal must serve this urge, she figured. The urge to gather food, the urge to survive, the urge to find a mate: all of these and more were never up for debate. Why, if she were a human…

She sighed. If only that were possible. It was her greatest secret. She admired humans and how reacted to the world around them, as well as how they could decide what they wanted to do and when they were to do it. In truth, she had even gone as far as to learn how to understand them. True, her natural fear of all that were larger than herself had kept her from getting too close, but she could always find a way to get close without being seen. The only real problem she had was figuring out their speech in of itself. Though she still understood nothing of their customs and reasoning, she had at last gained enough understanding to at least listen in on their conversations. However, this did not change anything about herself. She was now and forever doomed to be nothing more than a squirrel, and she would never be able to know the human boy she had met.

Suddenly, the sound of a twig snapping drew her attention back to the world. She whirled around to see none other than the scraggly wolf from the end of last summer. He leered down on her with a ravenous gaze, drool oozing from his long jaws. For a long throbbing moment, the two stood there in dead silence. Then, with predatory strength, the wolf lunged in an attempt to trap her beneath his enormous paws. The urge taking control in full force, the young squirrel fled just as the wolf landed. Unwillingly to surrender his meal, the wolf made chase, snapping at her tail every time he got remotely close. The squirrel's urge caused her to zig-zag across the forest floor, but the wolf was still following close behind. Finally, she could see a stream coming into view. Her urge suddenly caused her to come to a complete stop at the river's edge; the wolf wasn't so lucky nor graceful. Before he completely realized his error, the wolf fell into the cold river only to resurface seconds later and futilely try to dog-paddle back to the shore. In no time at all, he vanished from sight.

The squirrel panted heavily, greatly relieved that the chase was over. However, this was short lived when she realized that she was now in an area of the forest she was unfamiliar with. Panic slowly starting to take in, she raced up a tree in an attempt to get her bearings. She peered over the tree tops but saw no sign of her beloved tree or anything she found familiar. Then, as her panic was beginning take over her thoughts, she caught sight of an odd sight. A large, stone structure stood erected in the middle of a clearing, and a large pool of water surrounded it on all sides. The only way inside she could see was a large wooden plank that had long chains fastened on adjacent sides, and she could see two figures, one short and fat and the other tall and skinny, standing next to a horse drawn cart. The two seemed to be arguing about something, though she couldn't distinguish what it was due to the distance. Then, to the squirrel's total amazement, there appeared a third figure. His features from the neck down were indefinable due to a long blue cloak he wore around his person. Atop of his head was a matching blue hat that pointed outward to the sky, and she was certain she saw an owl perched on the point. He also had a long, snow white beard that stretched all the way down to the middle of his chest. Why, unless she was dreadfully mistaken, this was none other than the old man that had travelled with the boy.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Start of a Dream

The squirrel was quick on her paws, and anything that was bolted to the tree was sent sailing to the ground. In no time at all, she had reached a tiny spruce tree just at the edge of the clearing surrounding the large stone structure. From there, she could see the large set human and the tall lanky one seeming to be in a heated argument.

"I don't want to be one of the Wart's knights." the tall one griped. He was a rough looking fellow with an unruly mop of red hair adorning his scalp, slouched back, humped up shoulders, a sloping forehead, and, overall, just a lazy aura.

"Come off it, Kay." the fat man replied. He was a much comelier fellow. Aside from his portly exterior, he carried himself with a noble air with his head held high and his chest puffed out. Underneath his hat, she could see a head of red hair, and he had a bushy mustache, one that put her own tail to shame, to match. Judging from his similar features and demanding tone, she deduced that he was the lanky one's father.

"But dad…"

"Enough!" the father snapped. He sighed. "This hasn't been easy on any of us, but how could we 'ave expected that War… I mean…Arthur was King Uther's son. Had I of known…maybe…Oh, the devil take it! Just consider yourself lucky that he is making you a member of his court, then go in to gather your things. It will be a long journey back to London."

The lanky one, Kay, grumbled some more, but reluctantly walked away and vanished into the structure. The father merely sighed, wiping his face with a handkerchief he had in chest pocket. The older man, the only one that the squirrel recognized, placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Now, now, Sir Ector." he said calmly, patting his shoulder lightly. "Give the lad some time. I'm sure that once he sees how great of a man that Arthur will become, he will be absolutely honored to be his knight."

The father, Sir Ector, looked up at the older man and smiled.

"Thank you, Marvin." he said. "I really hope you're right. For Arthur's sake, at least."

As Sir Ector walked off, Merlin called after him saying, "Be of good cheer, it will turn out alright…and my name is MER-lin!"

The squirrel, now certain that the other two humans were gone, began to climb down the tree in an attempt to get the elder human's attention. However, she stopped short at the sound of an unseen person's voice.

"Hut tut tut!" the voice grumbled harshly. "Pinfeathers to the lot of them! I don't see why the Wart even considered letting those two to stay with us back at the castle. Why, were I in his position, I would have personally had them kicked off the grounds and into that harsh snow storm a couple of months ago."

"Oh, come, come, Archimedes." Merlin chided, poking at the owl on his hat with his cane. "They are, after all, the only real family he has ever known. Why wouldn't he allow them acceptance into his home. I think it was very noble of Arthur."

The squirrel placed a paw against her muzzle. She now remembered that the owl had the ability to speak like humans; a feat she hoped that he would be willing to teach her. She looked up to see that the two were walking into the structure. With a squeak of surprise, she hurried after the two will all haste. No sooner had she made it inside that she immediately lost sight of them. Grunting in disgust, she decided that her only chance was to search the place in the hopes that she would find them before they left. If she couldn't, then she would never see the boy again.

Her search brought her to a room with a large wooden table in the center of the floor. The faint smell of burnt meat reached her nostrils, and she couldn't help but wretch. Though there were many things she liked about humans, their desire to eat cooked meat was never one that she was never too enthused over. How could humans even stand it? She would never dream of eating another animal. It was just barbaric.

It was then that she felt the hot, rancid breath steaming up the back of her neck. Ever so slowly, she turned and came face to face with two snarling dogs. Though much more docile than the wolves of the forest, these canines were still more than willing to eat a small squirrel that had been foolish enough to enter their domain. Not needing to be told twice by her urge as she quickly made a break for the table, both dogs barking at the top of their lungs as they gave chase. All three animals loped onto the table, the dog's claws scraping the wood. Through the terror induced haze in her mind, the squirrel could see the heads of animals mounted along a wall. Though she would normally be repulsed at this sight, her urge informed her that they would be perfect vantage points too high for her pursuers to reach her. She leapt off the table with the dogs still in hot pursuit, and immediately began to scale the wall as best as she could. She huffed and puffed but didn't stop until she had reached the boar's head, where she collapsed with exhaustion. As she looked over the boar's snout, she could see the dogs that were barking furiously at her and leaping as high as they could to catch her; they couldn't reach her. There came the sound of angry voices, and the squirrel looked up to see the two humans from before storm into the room.

"Tiger! Talbot!" the older man snapped, grabbing the two canines by their collars. "What the devil has gotten into you?"

The Kay merely huffed, silently munching on a turkey leg he had found in the kitchen.

"Stupid dogs ain't ever been good for much." he mumbled through bites. "Don't know why you keep them around."

The elder man glared at the boy. "I've gotten more use out of them today than I have of you. Now drop that blasted thing and help me load up the dogs!"

It took some effort, what with Kay taking his time, but the two finally got enough of a grip on the dogs and finally carted them away. After several long minutes, which to her felt like hours, the squirrel finally decided that it would be safe to return to her search for the white bearded man. Bounding off from her vantage point, she made a mad dash out of the room and in the opposite direction of the humans and dogs. When she found herself back in the main hall, she decided now would be a good time to fall back on her sense of smell rather than sight. She focused hard on each scent that filled her nostrils, trying her best to filter out all scents till she found the right one. She immediately recognized the smell of owl feathers, and she was hot on their trail.

Her senses led her to a stairwell leading up and into open air, where she found herself on the ramparts of the castle. She was thankful to be out again, and even more thankful that the scent was even stronger. She was standing downwind of it, and she looked upwind to see a large tower that look almost nearly ready to topple over. It took a little work to resist her urge to run in the opposite direction, and at last she had made it to the door leading inside. Fortune smiling upon her, the doorway was open, and a neat little trail of owl feathers only confirmed her original beliefs.

On silent paws, she crept up the stairs. When she had reached the summit, she found the door opened only slightly a crack with a beam of light casting from inside. She placed her nose into the door, only able to push it open just enough that she could squeeze through, and she was greeted by an awe inspiring sight. As far as the eye could see, there were mountains upon mountains of books; either stacked on the tables or piled onto the floor. Something that also caught her attention were the strange wooden objects suspended to the sealing via chords. They all possessed wings and seemed as though they were meant for flight, though she couldn't understand how; wings that stiff surely couldn't flap like that of bird wings.

Seeing a nearby table leg, she immediately scurried over to it and scaled it to get a better look. Now on the table's surface, the squirrel had an absolutely unobscured view of the room. Though mostly books and those strange winged things hanging from the ceiling, she could see several other objects that she couldn't recognize. There was a large green and blue ball suspended in some sort of wooden cage that would still allow it to spin freely. On another table, there was a small wooden object with four wheels and a spout on one end. There was also a long tube pointing out the window and looking to the sky. All these sights and more filled her vision, so much to the point that she began to grow dizzy and backed into something that fell over with a clank. Whirling around, she saw a blue, hourglass shaped item that was slightly smaller than she was. It was most likely a container of some sort, for a strange white powdery substance had spilled out when it had fallen over. She sniffed it cautiously and was greeted by a sweet scent. She circled around, stuck out a paw, gathered a scoopful, and sampled a taste. Her eyes grew wide at the deliciously sweet taste, and she immediately devoured the remainder in her paw.

She made a move to gather more but stopped short when the container thing stood up. Though it possessed no eyes, it looked to the squirrel, the spilled powder, and back again. It hopped for a moment as though in anger, placed its small blue cap back on, then picked up a strange metal stick and began to swing it at her. She began to back away to avoid the weapon, but she bumped her back into a stack of books and sent them flopping onto the floor. There came a loud banging noise, followed by a cry of pain as Merlin rose from beneath a table on the opposite end of the room. He had ducked his head under there in order to gather up his travel bag, and the sudden commotion had caused him to bang his head against the bottom of the table.

"Hang it all!" the old man snarled, rubbing his head. "What was that?"

The container thing immediately dashed away into hiding, though the squirrel had remained stationary and unsure as to what she should do. Though she had been thoroughly intent on finding the man, she hadn't thought about what she would do when she found him. It wasn't like she could talk to him, and she hadn't even considered the possibility that he might possibly eat her; that other human from before seemed like he would have. Her urge giving the command, she turned to flee but was stopped by bumping into a wall of feathers. She looked up to see the owl that had been perched up on the man's hat from before.

"Wot! Wot!" he exclaimed, puffing out his chest. "What have we here?"

Frightened beyond belief, hazel turned tail to run again, but she was stopped again at the sight of Merlin's face appearing over the edge of the table. Her only means of escape cut off on both sides, she hid her head under her paws and shook fearfully.

"Now, now, little one." Merlin said soothingly, petting her gently with the end of his index finger. "No need to be shy. I mean you know harm."

The squirrel removed one paw from her face, and, after seeing the kind face on the elderly man, she finally stood to full attention. Merlin smiled, then shifted his gaze to the fallen stack of books.

"Quite the clumsy one, aren't we?" he chuckled. "Now where did you come from?"

"Knowing how unkempt this castle is," the owl snorted. "She and I don't know how many more animals may have made a nest out of this place."

"Oh, come, come, Archimedes." Merlin chided, pushing the owl back with his stick. "There's no need to be rude in front of our little guest."

However, Merlin did feel a strange scratch at the back of his mind. He looked at the squirrel more closely and squinting his eyes to ensure he could see her perfectly.

"By, George! Archimedes, have my eyes finally given out on me, or is this not the same squirrel from back at the end of last summer? The one that had been chasing Arthur throughout the treetops?"

Archimedes, intrigued by the old man's statement, took a closer look at the new arrival; his face became a mask of absolute surprise and amazement.

"My goodness, I do believe you’re right. Huh, I would recognize this red head even if I was blindfolded." He turned his back to and flew up to his perch suspended to the ceiling. "Course, it isn't difficult to remember a half-crazed squirrel that has her fun running over poor old owls."

Merlin chuckled at the comment, and then looked to the squirrel once more. "Don't worry about him. He's just a little cranky this morning. Now, what brings you here this fine day?"

The squirrel began to attempt communication, but she cut herself short when she remembered that humans didn't understand squirrel speech. Merlin, seeing her mounting irritation, began to get the picture.

"Permit me to guess. You wish to see the boy again, don't you?"

The squirrel immediately, and rather vigorously, began to bob her head up and down.

Merlin burst with uncontrolled laughter. "I figured as much. I must say, you're a rather intelligent creature to understand humans and be able to respond."

Just then, a thought came to Merlin's head; an idea that he had had several years ago.

"Say, lass, I think I have an idea that would be mutually beneficial to the both of us. What if I told you that I could turn you into a true human?"

The squirrel's heart skipped several beats. Human, he could…would actually make her one? That seemed impossible, but, considering that she had seen him do the same both to himself and the boy, who was she to doubt him? She began to bob her head up and down again, putting much more enthusiasm into the motion.

Merlin chuckled at this, and then grew serious. "Now, here's the deal, lass. I will make you human, but only if you will follow three specific rules: one, you must be educated in the ways of man from their customs to their speech. Second, you mustn't at any time, once you learn to speak properly, reveal your origins, for it will only lead to great trouble for both myself and you. Thirdly, and foremost, when you are reunited with Arthur, you will NOT, under any circumstances, pull any stunts like you had when you met him back at the forest. The poor lad has been having enough trouble as it is. Are we at an agreement?"

The young squirrel was now nodding her head so fiercely, that she even fell over and hit her chin against the table's surface. This brought about another round of chortles from Merlin.

"I can see fear holds nothing over you about this." he chuckled. "Now then, are you ready?"

"She most certainly is not!"

The two of them looked up to see Archimedes flying down from his perch, fluttering his tiny wings rapidly for more speed. He landed on the table in between Merlin and the squirrel; he was shooting a hot glare at the prior.

"Merlin, I know what you're up to, and I won't allow you to go through with it."

"Oh, come off it, Archimedes." Merlin scoffed, tapping the owl gently with his stick. "There's no need to get so worked up."

"There's plenty of need." Archimedes retorted. "When it was you and the boy changing into animals, you were using it for educational purposes. To do something of this caliber permanently, why, it would go completely against nature."

Merlin tossed him a sideways, cocky glance. "Oh? And is it not against nature for an owl to speak in the language of man? I've never heard you complain about such."

Archimedes puffed out his chest, but he made no reply.

"Besides," the wizard continued. "This actually is for educational purposes. I have already seen how humans respond to the lives of animals, and now I have the chance to test how an animal will respond to the life of a human. Aside from that, just look at her. This is what she wants."

Archimedes swiveled his head back to the squirrel, and he was surprised to see that she had a beggar's face; her mouth was drooped into a frown, her eyes had grown wide and wet with possible tears, and even her ears were pinned backwards which made her tiny head look even smaller. Little by little, the owl's resistance began to crumble, and he even found himself feeling sympathetic for the pitiful creature.

At last, with one final huff, he said, "Do whatever you please. However, when all falls apart, don't bother asking me for help." He flew back up to his perch, silently muttered, "Stark raving mad, the lot of them."

When the owl was out of earshot, Merlin readdressed the squirrel. "Don't mind him. He stays out late at night, and he can be quite grumpy during the day. Now, once again, are you ready? Here we go!"

The wizard clenched his eyes tightly shut, tapped the squirrel twice with his stick, and then chanted, "Puellam…verto…in homine!"

He tapped her in the head once more, and suddenly the world around her began to spin like a twister. She began to spin faster and faster as multiple colors exploded in front of her vision, and she soon felt her entire body grow numb. After what felt like hours, though merely a few seconds, her world collapsed into darkness, just moments before she heard Merlin say, "By, George! I've done it!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Start of a New Life.

Her head was still whirling when the squirrel came to. That had been a very strange experience, and it was far more than she had expected. She shook her head feverishly to further rouse herself, when she suddenly felt something swish over her face with each shake of her head. Her eyes bolted open, and all she could see was a curtain of bright red. She moved her hands to her face and parted away the curtain, and her joy overflowed. It was hair, human hair! It was long and reaching all the way to the middle of her back when it was behind her.

But this was only the beginning of what could be-what was-the greatest surprise of her life. Her hands were also those of a human: furless, pink skin with five digits. She opened and closed them into fists, marveling at her new appendages. Her gaze then went down to her body in general. As could be expected, she was surprised to see that her body was clothed. It was a simple dress, even she could see that, that was dark red with gold trimmings and reached to about her shins. She was, however, barefoot, but this mattered little to her. Her excitement boiling over, she just had to know just what exactly she looked like now. She swiveled her head around and caught sight of a full length mirror. She quickly rose to her feet to dash over to it, though she fell to the floor just as quickly. It then occurred to her that her tail, which had acted as her source of balance when she was a squirrel, was now gone. This meant she would have to become used to walking upright without it. Oh, well. What was life without its challenges?

Using tables and anything else her hands landed on for support, she guided herself to the mirror. Her goal accomplished, she managed the will to stand and marveled at the reflection that greeted her. Her face was pushed inward as opposed to her prior muzzle, and she possessed red freckles all along her cheeks. Her eyes were the same shade of blue as they had been before, of which she was thankful. For a brief moment, she feared that she had lost her ears during her transformation since they weren't at their usual placed atop her head. She sighed with relief when she realized that they were on the sides of her head instead, hidden beneath her straight red locks.

"Ha, ha. I suppose you like your new look, eh Lass?"

Somewhat startled, she whirled around to see the bearded man in blue with a large smile on his face. She mimicked the look, and opened her new mouth to say something, though only unintelligible blabbering made its way out. Merlin chuckled at this good naturedly.

"I told you from the beginning that you would have to learn about the ways of man, didn't I? If this seems like a problem, then I suppose I could change you back."

The girl immediately shook her head. Go back to being an animal? She most certainly would not. Merlin chuckled again.

"I thought as much."

"MARVIN!"

Merlin winced at the miss-pronunciation of his name. He made his way to the window and looked outside to see Sir Ector standing next to their cart in front of the moat. It was loaded down with their belongings, and Kay was sitting at the reins and ready to leave.

"HAVE YOU FINISHED PACKING, YOU BLASTED OLD GOAT?" Sir Ector boomed up at him.

"NOT YET!" Merlin exclaimed in reply. "JUST ONE MOMENT. AND MY NAME IS MERLIN!"

The elderly wizard pulled in his head and huffed.

"Pompous windbag! Is it really so difficult to remember a name?"

The girl giggled lightly at the moment, but then a thought struck her. Squirrels never named their young, thus there was nothing for her to be called. She tugged on Merlin's robe to gain Merlin's attention.

"Yes, lass." he said, looking to her.

The girl thought hard; since she couldn't talk, she couldn't really tell him what she was thinking. She scanned the room and observed every article for a means to convey her thought. At last, her gaze landed on a book. Somewhat shakily, she trudged over to it, picked it up, and showed the title to Merlin while pointing to herself. It took a moment, but Merlin finally caught on.

"Ah, you're quite right, lass!" he exclaimed, tapping his palm to his forehead. "It just wouldn't do for I and others just to refer to you as 'girl', now would it?'

He scratched his beard as he considered the matter profusely. He walked over to his book table, and he skimmed through the thick volumes. Nothing really spoke to him as a proper name for the young girl. His leg bumped against the table, and he heard something fall to the floor. He looked over to examine it, and he could see that it had been a bowl of hazel nuts he had left before his unplanned journey to Bermuda that last winter.

"Hazel." he mused to himself, thinking it over and over in his head. "By George, that's it!" He turned back to the girl. "I say, lass, how about it? Would you like to be called Hazel from now on?"

What was there to say? She had never had a need for a name in her previous state; hence any name was better than no name. She bobbed her head in agreement, much to the happiness of Merlin.

"Excellent! Now, with that out of the way, I can pack my things and we can be on our merry way back to London!"

He retrieved his travel bag and magic wand, and then moved to the center of the room.

"Pay attention, Hazel." he began, turning back to the girl. "You'll like this."

He tapped his wand against his bag a couple of times, and then began to sing.

"Higgitus figitu, zumba zazing!

I want your attention, everything!”

Everything in the room immediately shifted at though turning to face Merlin, causing Hazel to jump back with a start.

"We're packing to leave." Merlin explained to his junk. "Let us be off now. No dawdling. Single file lines, everyone."

Suddenly, the small blue object that had attack Hazel when she was a squirrel darted from its hiding place and made a beeline for the bag. However, it came to a complete stop when Merlin held up a hand.

"Surgarbowl, you should know this by now. Come along, books, let's go." The books began to levitate in the air and move towards the open bag, leaving Hazel absolutely stunned.

"Hockety, pockety, wockety wack

Abracabra dabra nack

Shrink in size, very small

We've got to save enough room for all

Higitus figitus migitus fum

Presti-digi-tonium!”

As the floating books came close to the bag, they began to shrink in size and fill the bottom of the bag. Little by little, more of the assorted items in the room began to float their way towards the bag, including the little sugarbowl. It had fallen behind from the other kitchen items, and it was trying to take its place in front of the teapot. As the dishes behind them began to bunch up, the teapot accidently knocked into the sugarbowl and nearly knocking off its cap as Merlin continued to sing.

"Alica fez

Balica zez

Malaca mez meripides

Hockety pocket wockety…"

CRASH!

Merlin was cut short, and he looked over to see that the teapot was now missing its spout. He tossed a scorching glare at the sugarbowl, which was shaking visibly with its spoon behind its back.

Merlin pointed towards the travel bag, then barked, "Get in there!"

The sugarbowl needed no further persuasion, and he was gone like a shot. Merlin then proceeded to gather up the broken spout and placed it in his robe pocket.

"Don't worry, little teapot, I'll stitch it back on when we get back to London."

He moved back to his spot next to the bag. He took a moment to remember his spot in the spell, and at last it came.

"Hockety pockety wockety wack

Odds and ends and nic a braks."

Everything was starting to get crazy now. Everywhere the eye could see, strange objects and items went soaring through the air and was bunching themselves around the wizard. Next to flow into the seemingly bottomless bag were the items hanging from the ceiling. Hazel could hear agitated hooting, and she looked up just in time to see Archimedes narrowly escape his rapidly shrinking birdhouse as it fit into the bag.

"When will you learn to wait till after I get out, you bungling blockhead?" he scolded from his place in the air.

"When you learn not to get in your bird house while I'm packing-oop!" A chair bumped into Merlin, reminding him that his work wasn't complete.

"Pay attention, lass!" he called to Hazel. "Here comes the fun part!"

“Higitus figitus migitus fum

Presti-digi-tonium!

Higitus figitus migitus fum

Presti-digi-toni-um!”

With that final proclamation, the bag sealed itself and all grew quiet. Hazel could only look on in amazement; completely awestruck at how the once filled to the roof room was now stark empty save for themselves and Merlin's marvelous bag. Merlin noted her looks of wonder, and he chuckled heartily.

"Impressive, eh lass? Best way to pack, especially when you have so much to carry on your travels."

He made his way to the stairwell and motioned to Hazel for her to follow; she obeyed. As they made their way out of the castle, the newly made human girl couldn't help but giggle. When she was a squirrel, the thick pads on her paws were too warm and rough to sense how cool and smooth the stone floors felt. The soles of her feet were a different matter altogether; they were much more sensitive and could feel every crease in the stones. Once outside, she also found that she felt the weather differently. When she was a squirrel, she possessed a large amount of fur on her body, thus she had found it very warm that day. Having no hair aside for what was on her head, she found she enjoyed the crisp spring day much more, and the breeze felt wonderful against her skin. Her human life was shaping up to be simply glorious, and this was only her first day.

She then realized that Merlin had moved ahead towards Sir Ector's cart. She sprinted over to catch up, halting just behind Merlin. The older man was speaking with Sir Ector.

"Sure took your time, you old goat." the stout man growled.

He had just had a romp across the courtyard due to Kay neglecting to tie up the dogs; the whole exercise had left the older man with a sour mood and a body caked in fresh mud.

"I hope you'll forgive me." Merlin replied, trying hard not to laugh at Sir Ector's plight. "But you may be interested in my find. Wait till you see…Hold on! Now where did she go?"

He moved to one side, and Hazel found herself directly in Ector's line of sight. Feeling sheepish, the girl mustered up a faint smile. Sir Ector stared at the girl, somewhat unsure what to say. At last, he spoke.

"Well, that is an interesting find." He knelt down to the girl's eye level. "Now where might you have come from, young lady?"

Once again Hazel opened her mouth to speak, only to realize that she couldn't. She turned to Merlin for support, and the kindly wizard said, "I'm afraid she isn't capable of speech. I have surmised that she isn't a mute but merely uneducated. Thus, I have brought it upon myself to take her with us so that I may educate her along with Arthur. As a bonus, I think it would be very productive for Arthur to have a classmate of the same age."

"Hmmm, quite right." Sir Ector agreed with a nod. "You've got a point, Marvin. Arthur never did have anyone his age to relate to growing up here in the forest. On top of that, I remember hearing the cook say that we needed a new scullery maid. She just might do."

"Quite so, but one last thing."

"What's that?"

The old man moved closer to the knight, stuck his nose right in his face, and screeched, "MY NAME IS MERLIN!"

Sir Ector had to take a couple of steps back and shake his head to stop the ringing in his ears.

"Sakes alive, man. I'm not as young as I used to be, but that doesn't mean you have to yell. You should have said something in the first place."

Merlin opened his mouth to say more, but he was cut off when Kay called from the cart. "Everything is loaded up, dad. Let's go already."

Sir Ector hollered that he was coming, and he looked to his fellow travelers. "Best load up. We're off to London!"

As they made their way to the cart, Hazel began to shiver. Everything was happening in a blur. She had not only been changed into a human, but now she was going to meet with that boy again. Sure, her strange urges were gone, but she was still anxious. What would he think of her? Would they get along? Would she be able to follow Merlin's rules correctly so as to keep her humanity? She then felt a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to see Merlin smiling down on her.

"No need to worry, lass. All will be well. Just take one step in front of the other."

She smiled back and nodded. In no time, they were bouncing down the old dirt road, merrily on their way to a new adventure. However, unobserved to the travelers, a certain scraggly wolf was loping hard, but stealthily, behind him. He wasn't sure how she changed shape, but he recognized the squirrel's scent. That miserable creature had caused him no end of grief at their every encounter, and, one way or another, he was going to get her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Oh, I Just Wish I Wasn't King!

Hazel awoke to someone shaking her shoulder. Stretching and yawning, she looked up into the wizened face of Merlin.

"Wake up, lass, we're here. We're in London!"

This brightened Hazel's mood, and she peeked around the sides of the cart. What she saw surprised her. There were several people walking to and fro along the cobblestone street as they went about their usual business. What struck her as odd was the unusual amount of tension and fear in the air. Even the children seemed somewhat cautious. She couldn't help but wonder why everyone was so jumpy. The cart jumped slightly as they went underneath the archway leading to the castle and finally came to a stop. Hazel gazed upon the mighty structure. Whatever amazement she had from seeing Sir Ector's manor in the forest paled in comparison to this. It towered high into the sky, its towers stretching out like the fingers of a hand. Several flags adorned the tips of the spires and fluttered lightly in the wind. There was even a little orchard and garden within the walls with several trees that looked excellent for climbing. She was going to like it here. Sir Ector and Kay immediately got to work on unloading their things and setting them to one side as several humans, which Merlin described to be special helpers called servants, took them into the castle. The dogs were also unloaded, and they both made a beeline for the fresh trees. As for Hazel, she followed Merlin as he, Sir Ector and Kay made their way towards the large entrance. According to Merlin, it was finally time to meet Arthur. The young girl's heart had started thudding in her chest, and she began to run her fingers through her hair and run her hands over her dress in an attempt to make herself look presentable. She felt a little silly for doing so, but every little bit helped. As they stepped through the large doors, they found themselves in an enormous chamber. All along the walls banners and tapestries brought color to the bland sheen of the stone and the empty windows provided excellent lighting. There was even a magnificent red carpet that led up to a golden throne; an empty gold throne. Hazel could see the confusion on Merlin and Sir Ector's faces as they got closer, though she noticed a sort of smirk on Kay's face which caused her to feel angry at him.

"Boy!" Merlin called. "Where are you? Come on out, we have returned."

"Merlin?"

A head popped out from behind the throne, and Hazel's heart jumped. It was him! At last she had found him, and he looked…tired. Honestly, the poor boy looked as though he hadn't slept for days. He had heavy bags under his eyes, and he moved about with a lazy stance. He was about as old as her human form was with a lanky figure that was hidden beneath a large robe that several sizes too big. Atop his dusty blonde hair was a round shaped crown of gold and red velvet that occasionally covered his eyes. He also was carrying a large sword that was sheathed in a golden sheath.

"Merlin! Archimedes! Sir Ector! Kay!" the boy exclaimed, sounding greatly relieved. "I'm so glad you're back!"

"I'm sure." Sir Ector replied, blinking away his surprise. "The devil take it, Arthur, what has happened to you? You look horrible."

The boy gave an exhausted sigh and plopped down into his throne while removing the crown from his head.

"I feel horrible. Just when you guys had left, several people from all over the country flocked into here. Some of the nobles from other countries have been taking their land and forcing them from away from their homes. These people then come to me demanding that I do something about it, and I just don't know what to do."

He looked to Merlin.

"What should I do, Merlin?"

The wizened wizard tugged on his beard and thought for a moment.

"Not quite sure, lad. I'd have to have a better grasp on the situation, and I'll get right on it as soon as I can. But, before that,"

Merlin placed a hand to Hazel's back, and he pushed her forward a little so that Arthur could see her better.

"I'd like to introduce you to your new classmate, Hazel. We had found her when we returned to the forest, and I found that she was uneducated. I thought that a new face around the castle would be a boost to your mood."

Arthur got up from his throne, and he looked the girl over carefully. Putting on a smile, he extended his hand.

"Hello, Hazel. Welcome to the castle."

Hazel stared at his hand for a moment, unsure of what to do. She saw out of the corner of her eyes she could see Merlin doing secret gestures telling her to do likewise, and she did. Though, her hand missed his and she just let it hand hang in the air. Arthur stared at her for a moment and then corrected her by taking her hand and shaking it. The custom confused the girl, but she merely passed it off as a human thing that she would come to understand in time. Just then, the entryway doors opened again, and Arthur squeaked in surprise. He then ducked back behind his throne and out of sight.

"Whoever it is, tell them I'm not here." he called from his hiding place.

Puzzled, the quartet turned towards the door. There approached a tall, lanky fellow in about his late forties with a pot belly dressed in a magenta tunic, possessing a mostly bald head, and a brush-like mustache.

"Pelinore!" Sir Ector exclaimed with joy. "Good ol' Pelinore! Greeting old boy, and how have you been?"

Hazel found that she immediately liked this newcomer. He was very comely, and he possessed a friendly smile. He walked up to Sir Ector and took his hand in a firm handshake.

"It's good to see you again, Ector. It does my heart good to see that you are doing well."

He turned to the others.

"Mister Merlin, Kay, good to see you, as well."

The wizard nodded respectfully whereas Kay just shrugged. Pelinore's gaze then landed on Hazel, and a puzzled expression coming onto his face.

"This is Hazel." Merlin began in an attempt to remove confusion.

"We found her when we were packing our things from our castle."

"I see." Pelinore replied, and he then extended his hand. Hazel reciprocated. Pelinore then looked up and scanned about the room.

"I say, where is the king?"

"Uh, over here, sir."

Pelinore looked up in time to see Arthur step out from his hiding place behind his throne, and the knight noted his fatigue.

"Saxons giving the people trouble?"

Arthur nodded.

"The people been giving you trouble?"

Arthur nodded.

Pelinore sighed. "These truly are dark times. But I wouldn't let it get you down lad. After all, you have Heaven on your side, after all."

Pelinore pointed to the sword Arthur was carrying with a smile. Arthur gazed upon it, and he felt slightly relieved. It still amazed him that he was able to draw it from the anvil in that church yard, let alone he was the only one that could. He had been an orphan raised by Sir Ector and, though he had always been curious as to whom his birth parents were, he could never of guessed that he was the heir to an entire kingdom.

"Uhm, Arthur?" Pelinore began, regaining his attention. "I'm sorry to ask this, but may I make a request?"

Arthur looked at the man somewhat exhausted, but sighed in defeat.

"What is it you need?" he asked.

Pelinore gestured to the door, and there appeared a young man around fifteen. He wasn't very tall, about a foot taller than Arthur maybe, with a medium build, red hair, and a slightly pimpled face. His clothes consisted of an average tunic, underdressing, white trousers, and shoes. He also wore a pair of glasses, though they appeared a size or two too large for his face. The boy held himself with an air of confidence as he approached Arthur, then took a knee.

"Your highness. I am Percival, son of Pelinore. I have travelled a great distance in the hopes that you would grant me the great honor of being one of your humble knights."

It was at that moment that Kay began to laugh, earning him everyone's attention. Through fits of laughter, Kay began to speak.

"Him? You're going to make him a knight? I doubt he could see within two feet without those pitiful excuses for glass on his face. Well, then again, I suppose he could blind a few people if they reflected the sun just right."

Kay continued to laugh as Pelinore's face grew red with anger. He was about to chastise the boy, but Ector beat him to it by smacking him in the back of the head.

"Kay, show a little respect. This boy seems to know the honor of being knighted better than you did. You should be ashamed."

Kay grumbled from being hit. His dad had really changed since the incident at the church yard. Back with Percival, he was still kneeling before Arthur, whom was looking to Merlin for guidance. Merlin gave him a nod and gestured to Arthur's sword. The boy, after some difficulty, drew it from its scabbard. Percival then bowed his head, and Arthur proceeded to tap his shoulders with the blade's tip.

"Uh, I knight thee, Sir Percival. I guess."

Percival raised his head, a proud smile on his face.

"Thank you, your highness. I swear to you I will never fail!"

The determination in the boy's eyes was inspiring to Arthur. This person, whom was two years his senior, was willing to be subservient to him. He believed in him. Taking Percival by the arm, he helped him to his feet.

"I'm not sure if I'll have the makings to be a good king, but I'll do my best not to let you down."

"Nor I to you." said Percival with a nod.

Hazel found the whole situation heartwarming. Granted, she had absolutely no idea what the heck was going on, or what it was Ector was mad at Kay for, but she could tell this was a good thing that had happened. Merlin clapped his hands.

"Ah, yes. Always good for a new knight to enter the court. Welcome, Sir Percival. Good things are in store for you, just you wait and see."

"In the meantime," began Pelinore. "Perhaps it would be best you got to know the castle, son. It will be your new home, after all, and you must be familiar of it in case of invasion."

"I can show him around." Arthur offered. "I've explored every part of this castle."

"Capital idea, boy." Merlin praised. "While you're at it, why not take Hazel with you? I'm sure she'd like to tag along."

When Arthur looked at her, she nodded her head.

"Sure, the more the merrier."

Hazel squealed with delight, rushing after the two boys as they went on their way.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Castle Life

Hazel opened her eyes feeling absolutely refreshed. It had been her first night as a human, and it was glorious. Beds, they were so much better than a nest of itchy pine needles and moss, and not a single bug was crawling over her in the night. Even the clothing to sleep in was comfortable, though she did wonder why humans needed different types of clothes. Wasn't one set enough? She shrugged. Chock it up with all the other human things she'd have to learn to understand. She changed out of the night gown and back into the dress she had been wearing yesterday and made her way into the hall. It was alive with activity as both maids and servants went about their usual business. She herself had things she needed to do. Merlin had told her that she would be helping out in the kitchen as a scullery maid…whatever that was. In all truth, she couldn't remember where the kitchen was. What was worse, she couldn't ask anyone how because she didn't know how to talk yet. She began going down the hall, doing her best to find a solution to her predicament. She froze at the sound of something hitting a wall…really, really hard. She rounded the bend to see the boy from the other day. Percival she believed his name was. The boy was on his rear, sitting in front of a wall and rubbing his face.

"The devil take it!" he hissed.

"Of all the places and all the times, where did those confounded…"

He looked up at her, squinted, and then chuckled nervously.

"Oh, miss Hazel, good morning. Sleep well?"

Hazel nodded.

"Say, you wouldn't happen to have seen my glasses, have you? I can't quite see without them."

Hazel shrugged and stepped forward. She froze again when she heard a crunch beneath her foot followed by a sharp pain. Stepping away, she gasped to see shards of glass, a few of which were embedded in her foot, and wire like metal. She heard Percival groan.

"That was them."

He scooped up the fragments and swept them into his pocket. He then spotted the glass jutting out of Hazel's foot.

"Once again a titanic blunder on my part. Give me your arm and I'll get you something for your foot."

He steadied her on his shoulder, then started forward…right back into the wall.

"Perhaps you should lead." he groaned bitterly. Hazel nodded, rubbing her sore nose before hobbling off with Percival. They made it down the hall with few accidents and came to a stop at the sound of Merlin singing. The old sorcerer was in his study, preparing his lesson scheduled in the afternoon. He looked up to see the two walk in.

"Oh, my. Now what have we here?" he asked, setting a math book aside.

"A mishap." Percival said, helping Hazel into a chair.

"I had dropped my glasses, and the poor lass stepped on them. Perhaps you could help?"

Merlin nodded.

"Quite right. Come with me."

He lead them deeper into his sanctum, and he produced some medical supplies and a spare set of glasses from his travel bag.

"Lucky thing I always have a spare." Merlin chuckled as he handed the glasses to the thankful Percival.

"Now then, Hazel, if you would take a seat and prop your foot up right here. Atta girl."

Hazel did as instructed, setting her wounded foot on a table so that Merlin had a clear view. She winced each time he pulled a glass shard out of her foot. He then took some white cloth and wrapped it around her foot. When he was satisfied, Merlin backed away.

"There we go. I'd recommend being careful with that foot for a while, my dear. I should also send for a pair of shoes for you so that you won't have to worry about this little conundrum."

Hazel merely smiled and nodded, just taking it all in stride. Percival had, by this time, settle his new glasses onto his nose. He didn't look too happy.

"Wonderful. My first day as a knight, and it starts off chaotic. Maybe Kay is right about my knighthood."

Merlin's head bolted up, and he snorted.

"Kay?! Right about anything?! Perish those thoughts now, Percival, for you shall be a great knight indeed. Just give it time and ignore those that don't have a clue what they're talking about."

Percival looked to the magician, and then cracked a smile.

"Thank you, Master Merlin. The thought is greatly appreciated."

He then helped Hazel to her feet.

"I had best get this young lady to her station. It wouldn't do for her to be late on her first day."

Merlin nodded with a small chuckle.

"Quite right. Now off with you two."

They waved goodbye, and Percival helped Hazel limp out into the hall. As they left, Archimedes hovered down from his perch. He was shooting Merlin a suspicious glance.

"I know you, Merlin. I hope you're not planning on intervening on Percival's destiny as you did with Arthur's."

The aged sorcerer made no reply, merely smirking and turning his back to the owl.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Archimedes. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an English lesson to finish before the afternoon."

It was slow going, but Percival and Hazel finally were making progress. They had finally reached the hall leading into the kitchen. They had just reached the door when they heard a noise coming from the other side of the door. Curiosity getting the better of them, Percival cracked the door open, and they both listened in.

"Left and Right, Like Day and Night,

That's what makes the world go round.

In and Out, Thin and Stout,

That's what makes the world go round."

Percival finally opened the door the rest of the way, and, to his and Hazel's surprise, there was Arthur, scrubbing the dirty pots and pans from last night. Percival and Hazel exchanged confused glances. The knight then walked over to the pot that the king was currently cleaning. He wrapped on it gently, and the singing stopped. Arthur's head popped out from the pot, and he grinned at the two.

"Oh. Good morning Percival, Hazel. How are you this morning?"

"We are well." Percival said, Hazel nodding.

"But if I may pry, my lord, why are you here? Isn't it Hazel's duty to clean these?"

Arthur rose to his full height, once again proving his short stature, and dusted off his clothes.

"Back when I lived in the forest with Sir Ector," he began.

"Cleaning the dishes was one of the numerous duties I had around the castle. I hated doing it back then, but, now that I have so much more on my plate, I kinda miss it. It helps me relax and ease up the tension. I hope you don't mind, Hazel."

Hazel shook her head. She still had little idea what was going on, but she was doing her best to keep up. He handed her a piece of cloth, which she accepted and stared at. It looked as though it had once been tan, but now it was coal black. What was worse, it was wet and smelled awful, even for a human nose. She stared at Arthur quizzically. Why had he given her this?

"It's a rag." Arthur said.

"You'll need it if you want to clean this stuff. Come on, I'll show you."

For the next thirty minutes, Hazel went through the motions of learning how to clean. It was tedious and painstaking work: take the rag, wet it down in soapy water, scrub the filthy dishes until her fingers were sore, and then refill the water from the well in the garden. Before long, Arthur and Percival had to set off and carry out their duties, the latter looking more excited than the prior.

Hazel was forced to carry out her duties alone for the rest of the day. When she had finally finished the dishes, she was free to eat breakfast with the maids, followed by cleaning up the breakfast dishes. When that was done, she was led by another maid to help with the laundry. After tearing a hole in several different tunics, it was decided that she would help with hanging them out instead. After that, it was nothing but a long string of little things like sweeping, more dishes, mopping the floors, changing bed sheets, and so much more. She was quickly beginning to tire and wished desperately for a break. However, the work wasn't the worst part. All throughout the day, several of the older maids were saying things about her back, thinking her lesser than themselves because she lacked the ability to speak. She fumed silently at them, but she contained herself. She may have only been human for a couple of days, but even she knew that they were just trying to get a reaction out of her. It was the same thing with a couple of pesky squirrels from back in her tree. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Before she knew it, lunch had passed along with the lunch dishes. According to Merlin, it was time for class, and her first lessons on how to speak. She met with Arthur and Percival in Merlin's study. The two boys showed signs of exhaustion, Percival having had a long day of training from Sir Ector and Arthur having to deal with more people that were losing homes. The blonde haired youth looked ready to drop and was shaking. Percival just seemed exhausted, his head even falling onto the desk as he began to lightly snore. Moments later, Merlin came sliding into the room with his usual brand of enthusiasm.

"Good afternoon, boys and girl!" he proclaimed with oomph, causing Percival to bolt awake.

"Welcome to your first day of schooling together. I promise you all that this will be both a fun and educational experience. Now then, given that not all of you are on the same page, here's how we'll do things. Arthur, having the most learning, I want you to read over your science book and work out the problems I assigned you. Percival," he turned to the knight

"I'll be taking you under my personal tutelage. If what Pelinore tells me of your mother is true, then I'm certain that you've already been receiving an education. I'd like to evaluate how far along you are before setting you up with Arthur. As for you, Hazel," he turned to the girl.

"Archimedes has volunteered to be your instructor today…after some prodding from myself. He'll be giving you the basics on speech."

Said owl swooped down from his perch, then fixed the girl with a firm glare.

"And I won't be taking any lollygagging." he hooted with a huff.

That being said, the three kids were split up. Arthur went straightway for the books, opening the thick volumes and turning to the desired passage while taking notes. Merlin had begun asking Percival several questions to gauge his knowledge, raising the difficulty when he figured that Percival was capable of answering. As for Hazel, Archimedes led her to a black board and handed her a small white stick, which she learned was called chalk. Archimedes then gestured to a group of symbols called letters which made up every word spoken, and he instructed her to draw each one. She looked uncertain, but she persevered and started. As she did so, Archimedes counted them off.

"First the A." She drew it, though shoddily.

"And then the B," Same thing.

"Loop and around, and there's a C." This was the easiest so far, but it still looked crooked.

"Keep going, girl. Keep going. D, E, F, and now the…No! No! No!"

What had happened was that as she drew the G, she had incidentally drawn it backwards. She flinched as Archimedes began to get on to her, feeling somewhat dejected that she had failed. Hearing the commotion, Arthur looked up to see what was the matter. He then rose and walked over to them, studying her work.

"A little shaky." he deduced.

"But it's a good first try. I got the G backwards my first time, too. Here, let me help."

He took her arm with the chalk and raised it back to the board. He then began to trace the G, showing her the proper means for the loop and direction. Hazel did her best to pay attention, but she was growing goosepimply. Even without her animal instincts, she was greatly flattered by Arthur's kindness. When Arthur was done, he returned the lesson to Archimedes and got back to his books. Hazel watched him go, and she felt her cheeks grow warm. It actually took Archimedes a couple of minutes to shock her back to reality. By the end of the day, she was still working on properly writing letters, but her responsibilities had to take over. It was back to the laundry, scrubbing sweeping, and listening to the maids gossip. At last, the day was finally over and the last pot scrubbed. Hazel was relieved for the moment, though she groaned when she learned she'd have to do it all over again in the morning. She was making her way to her room when she heard someone approach from behind. She turned to see Arthur walk up to her.

"Hey, Hazel," he said with wave, which the girl reciprocated.

"You did good on your first day of class; you made some great progress."

Hazel nodded a thank you in reply. Arthur then noticed that Hazel was shaking, and he recognized the tired look.

"As for the chores," he continued.

"Don't worry about it. It gets easier once the routine is learned. Speaking from personal experience."

That made Hazel feel better about it all. There was a moment of silence, and then Arthur waved goodbye.

"See you in the morning, Hazel. Take it easy."

She waved as well, watching him leave. Her cheeks were red, and she giggled a little. Laughter soon turned to drowsy yawning, and she stepped into her room. Tomorrow was another day.

Far away in a dark wood, there is a dark castle nestled in a clearing encircled by lifeless trees. Deep within the sanctum of the black structure, a figure stared into a crystal ball, having born witness to the events of the London castle. Bringing her face into the dim light, one could see that she was a girl with pitch black hair with a matching gown. Her skin was pale from lack of sunlight, and her lips were like a circle of blood and poison. Her brown eyes sparkled with devious thoughts of evil deeds, and she was smirking at the vision she beheld of Hazel.

"My, my. Merlin, you old fool, you have been busy. I do not know for what purpose you have taken this girl in, but it matters not. She could easily be of use to me as I take my final revenge upon Arthur and claim what rightfully belongs to me. The kingdom shall be mine. So says Le Fay."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: No Meal, No Luck, All Pain

It had taken far too long of a journey, but at last the wolf was certain that he was on the right track. That stupid squirrel that had made a fool of him all those months ago had certainly gone this way, and soon vengeance, not to mention a decent meal, would be his.

His lengthy search had brought him out of the woods and into the outskirts of a human village. On average, he chose to avoid places where humans resided, on account that he had nearly been killed on several occasions by their sharp, shiny sticks. However, he was too angry and too hungry to care at this point. As long as he stayed hidden, he would be perfectly fine. Therefore, he began to silently creep across the ground, sticking to the shadows and anyways to avoid detection from the humans as they went about their daily routine.

As he peeked around a corner, his face welled up into a look of joy. There she was! She and three other human women were going in and out of different buildings, and sometimes they came out with more than they had come in with. What she and the women were doing didn't concern him, however. All he wanted was the squirrel, and he had found her. His joy rose significantly when he saw that she had broken away from the other women and went to a budding by herself. This was the time to strike. Snickering to himself, he began his stealthy crawl towards his unsuspecting victim.

Once again, Hazel was confused. After her usual morning chores, some of the women had volunteered her to, as they put it, help them gather some things from the town. However, it was more like she got the things while they stood around and chattered like a flock of sparrows. Now, she understood the reason for going out. Getting more food was a necessity, and people needed clothing to stay warm since cloth didn't grow back like hair.

So why was she confused, you may ask? It was on the grounds of the strange pieces of metal she was to give in exchange for what she needed. They were small, no bigger than the palm of her hand, and they were very light. According to the women, these little trinkets held value, though she couldn't quite understand how. On that note, why did she have to exchange things for other things anyway? Couldn't people just go and get what they need from the forest? Why barter with total strangers with these shiny pieces of metal? She shrugged and shook her head. Yet even more human things she was just going to have to understand in the future. She was starting to get a headache from it all.

She had just finished with the butcher shop, and she was all but ready to leave after having to stand near so many dead animals. Now all that was left was to retrieve Arthur's new robe from the tailor across the street. As she made her way to the tailor's shop, she was unaware of the thin shadow that followed her, or the malicious intent it planned for her. The local tailor was a skinny fellow dressed in a white shirt, brown trousers, and a tiny pair of spectacles on the end of his nose similar to Merlin's. He had a pair of sewing needles held tightly in his teeth as he was putting the finishing touches on a tunic he was stitching up. He looked up when he heard someone enter, and he smiled at Hazel.

"'Ello 'Ello, what can I do you for, little miss?"

Hazel produced a parchment that the women had given her and handed it to the tailor. The man accepted it and read it thoroughly. He grinned.

"Ah, here for the king's new robe, eh? Well, just one moment."

Hazel stood patiently as the man went to the back of the shop. All the while, the wolf had sneaked his way inside, and he was closing in on his target. His mouth was already watering at the prospect of a good meal for a change, and he snickered quietly as he slinked beneath a table. He was just mere inches away from her leg. He sniffed out her ankle before licking his chops. He opened his massive jaws and stretched out his neck for one tremendous bite. And then…

"I'm back." The tailor called.

Hazel moved in the direction of his voice just moments before the wolf snapped his jaws. Cursing his luck and the tasteless air he had snapped, the wolf growled to himself. Hazel was handed an elegant looking red robe with gold trim. It was really big, and it felt very fluffy. It reminded Hazel of her old tail, perhaps the only thing she missed from her old life.

"Not too shabby, eh?" the tailor asked, puffing out his chest with pride.

"It took me a great deal of time to make it. I'd bet my sewing needles and thread that he'll get several years of use out of it, what with all the growing he's got left to do, eh?"

He cut loose with a hearty laugh, but Hazel remained quiet and confused, unaware of any humor. After paying the man his due, she made her way back outside, a shadow following her closely. She made her way back to the cart where the ladies were waiting. They were chatting like sparrows, and they didn't notice Hazel right away. When they at last spotted her, one of them scowled.

"Well look who finally decided to show up. Your lolly gagging is going to make us late for our other duties back at the castle. Come on, now."

Hazel was quickly hurried into the wagon, and they began to trundle down the cobblestone pathway back to the castle, the wolf following closely. He grumbled to himself on how he had missed his chance, but he wasn't about to give up just yet.

He followed the cart through the gate. There was a small area off to the side with grass and trees inside the walls, and he quickly took refuge beneath a tree as the cart entered the large stone structure. He skulked through the trees of the tiny orchard, trying his best to find his way inside. He then spied a low window. He trotted over to it, readied himself, and then took a leap inside. He made it about halfway through, and then managed to scrape his way in the rest of the way. He shook himself off and looked around. He was standing in a hallway, and the smell of human was everywhere. He took a deep breathe to try and take in the squirrel's scent. In a moment, he found it and went on his way.

He finally found her again in a large room with several metal pots and pans littering the floor. The squirrel had her back to the wolf, blissfully unaware of the intruder as she took her rag and dunked it in the water. As for Hazel herself, she was humming that tune that Arthur would sing whenever he was cleaning. It was a rather mirthful little ditty, and it did a lot to curb the young girl's boredom as she tediously scrubbed on the pot. Though she relished in her newfound humanity, even she had to admit that this sort of thing was horrendously boring. Nevertheless, she persevered and refused to give up. As she splashed her rag back into the bucket, something went splashing out. Hazel groaned and placed a hand over her face. There that stupid thing went again. She didn't care if that soap thing was necessary, when that thing got wet it was nearly impossible to keep a hold of. She reached down and took a hold of it, lifting it carefully. She had nearly brought it back to the bucket when it suddenly slipped through her fingers. She scrambled to take hold of it, but it constantly slipped from her fingers and flew into the air. Unbeknownst to her, the wolf was slowly slinking his way up behind her. He had her now, he just knew it. All he had to do was sneak past the pots quietly, and then he would pounce on her. He paused behind one last pot, and he peaked over it. The squirrel was completely oblivious of his presence, and now was his time to strike. Licking his chops and taking a deep breathe, he shot up over the pot with his jaws wide open.

Suddenly, he felt something slam into his mouth and down his throat. The action caused him to fall back behind his pot as he tried to figure out what it was. Just then, he hiccupped, and a string of bubbles gurgled out of his lips. All of a sudden, he wasn't feeling too well, and he felt a strong need to get outside before it was too late. He spotted an open window not far away, and he sprinted for it before leaping outside. Hazel was once again alone, though she was left with the irritating conundrum that was the lost bar of soap.

Outside, the wolf had relieved his stomach of what little it had originally contained, which wasn't very much. He felt horrible, but he was glad to be rid of whatever that square shaped thing had been. However, he was kicking himself over yet another failed attempt to exact his revenge on that blasted squirrel. Honestly, what did it take for a wolf to get one decent meal in this place for crying out loud? Just then, he heard the sound of humming, and an honest to goodness smile came to his lips as he spied the squirrel carrying a bucket to a circle of stacked stones.

This was it! He wouldn't fail this time.

He went into a stealthy crouch, and he stalked over in her direction. She was now tying a rope to the bucket and threw it into the hole, which was followed by a strange splash. He slowed his pace just a bit for added insurance, and he licked his chops. He was now just a few feet away with her back turned to him. He curled his legs and waggled his tail with grand expectation. He took one last deep breathe, and then he pounced. Time seemed to move to a snail's pace as he sailed through the air. His front paws were aimed at her back with all claws extended, and he could feel his tongue lapping against the side of his mouth. He was now just inches from her, and nothing could save her now. It should therefore come to no surprise as to just how surprised the wolf had become when Hazel twisted to one side with a bucket full of water. She had moved from her spot, and now the wolf was sailing right towards the hole and the dark, endless abyss that lingered inside. There was no way to change directions now, and he cried out in fright as he fell inside where he was greeted with a large splash. Hazel raised her head at the shout, and she looked about. She knew that Arthur and Percival were off in the training yards, but it was doubtful that their shouts could be heard from all the way over here in the garden. She shook her head; it was probably nothing. She took a deep breath, and then she lifted the bucket up again and set out for the kitchen. There were still many chores to be done. It took several hours, but the wolf had finally managed to claw his way out of the well though completely soaked. By then, he had become fed up. He wasn't about to give up his revenge, not even close to it, but he knew when to call it a day. He managed to find a way out of the city and was now loping his way towards the woods. The squirrel's time would come, but, for now, he was going to take a long nap.

Hazel was exhausted by the time she crawled to class. She settled into a chair and she prepared herself for another lesson from Archimedes. She couldn't help but breathe a bored sigh. Though she loved her new life, she had to admit that she wasn't accustomed to such boring days. It didn't seem like anything exciting happened. She shrugged. Oh well, it beat being chased by a hungry wolf every day of the week.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Keys to Success

Today was one of the rarer occasions of Hazel's new life. With some extreme luck, she had managed to finish a good portion of her duties early, and thus she had a little free time to herself. With little else to do, she would spend these days practicing writing the alphabet while watching Arthur, Percival, and Kay as they trained in the courtyard. Sir Ector was acting as their instructor, and it was clear that the older man had his work cut out for him with his three young protégés.

First and foremost was Arthur himself. When training, the boy had put his true sword away in favor of a wooden blade for fear that he would damage it, and his feelings weren't unjustified. His skinny features produced little force when he swung his weapon, and he seemed to grow tired quickly. What was worse, for him at least, was his ever clumsy mannerisms. Sir Ector would give him the order to charge with a jab, and the boy would trip on his own feet and fall on his face just inches from where his target stood. Still, much to Ector's pride, the boy never gave up, and each time he tried harder and harder.

Next was Percival, whom provided many headaches for Ector, both technically and literally. The boy had insisted on not wearing his glasses, stating that they gave him an image unbecoming of a knight, and he also made the argument that he would be of better use to his king and country if he could learn to fight without them. Though Ector had his doubts, he did in small part find truth in his words and permitted him to continue. He quickly came to regret this decision as Percival would swing the sword madly in all directions to strike down the target dummy. In the process, he knocked over a weapons rack and scattered several spears all over the ground, hit Ector three times in the head, scared a horse in the nearby stable that ran off while the stable hand was dragged behind by its reins, broke a window, and struck Arthur in the chest until the wooden sword finally flew out of his hand. All the while, the target had remained completely unscathed, and Ector had an aching head for his troubles. Percival felt very small at this point, and he quietly replaced his glasses over his face, not even bothering to reclaim his lost sword.

Then there was Kay. During the entire session, the eldest boy had sat back and watched the two flounder about under Ector's tutelage. He had gotten several laughs in, though he didn't seem too intent on training himself. Earlier, Ector had griped at the boy and told him he needed to practice. In reply, Kay merely yawned, and he then started to doze. However, karma has an odd sense of irony, as the sword that Percival had incidentally thrown had went whistling through the air and into his face, waking him up and knocking him to the ground. He came up with a twisted nose and a murderous look, and Percival quickly made himself scarce. Sir Ector merely groaned as he rubbed his aching head, and he told the boys that it was time for a short break. Kay stormed his way back into the castle to tend to his injuries, and he was followed by Ector whom was in search of something to clear his migraine. This left Arthur and Percival alone. Arthur put away his wooden sword, and then he reclined against the wall of the castle.

"That could have gone a whole lot better." he grumbled as he wiped sweat off of his brow.

"I concur." Percival piped in.

"But don't lose heart just yet, your highness. After all, it's like Master Merlin says. Rome wasn't built in a day."

"No, but that's how long it took for Pompeii to be destroyed." Arthur retorted negatively.

Percival flinched, almost sorry he had said anything. Arthur's confidence had taken many effective blows over the past couple of weeks. The Saxons had been getting very abrasive lately, and their victims were bringing all of their grievances straight to the young king. As his knight, Percival desperately wanted to help, but, sadly, he was every bit as clueless about what to do as his lord. For the most part, it seemed that these raids were spearheaded by a saxon lord by the name of Averil the Wild, and what a proper title the man had. He was a very belligerent fellow that lived in a manor somewhere in the woods that sat at the mountain foothills. He seemed to delight himself in causing pain to others, as well as force those weaker than himself to do his bidding. For all intents and purposes, he was a monster, and one that few men were willing to stand against. Arthur had been spending several restless nights trying to decide how to handle the situation, particularly in finding him. The man was a shadow, there one moment and then just gone. Percival gave his head a shake to ward off a cold shiver running down his spine. The idea of one day facing the man was not among the many fantasies he had regularly concerning knighthood. To clear his mind, and perhaps to ease Arthur's, he looked about the courtyard for some sort of distraction, and he quickly spotted their fellow classmate, Hazel.

"Oi, Miss Hazel. How are you today?"

He had intentionally made this a declaration rather than a simple salutation. As he had hoped, it had gotten Arthur's attention, and the boy was now walking over to the red head. He peered over Hazel's shoulder and saw that she was working on her alphabet.

"You're getting a lot better." he said approvingly.

"You're not drawing them as crookedly as you used to. Give it a week or two more, and you'll be writing in complete sentences."

Hazel looked up at him and smiled. She had been working very hard lately, even staying up later so that she could practice writing whole words rather than letters.

"How about your speech?" Percival said, officially joining the conversation.

"Archimedes has been working exceptionally hard on that with you. Have you learned to anything, yet?"

Hazel beamed at him, clearly excited he had asked. She had been waiting for just the right time to try this, and now seemed to be just the time. She reached into her apron pocket and produced a bright red apple. She quickly thought over Archimedes' lessons, and how it was important to break down the word into pieces, saying each part one at a time.

"A-ap-ple." she said with a small giggle of triumph. It was always so refreshing to hear her own voice rather than a squirrel chirp. It just continued to prove to her how real this situation really was. She looked at Arthur and Percival, and the two boys clapped and smiled.

"Masterfully done, Miss Hazel." Percival praised.

"Yeah." Arthur chimed in.

"Archimedes has done really well in his teachings. Won't be long until we can't get you to stop talking."

The two boys laughed and Hazel joined in, though she wasn't quite sure she got the joke. She set her notepad on the ground and stood up to stretch. She then spotted the wooden sword that Percival had thrown, and she walked over to it and picked it up. She studied it curiously before swinging it a few times like she had seen Percival and Arthur do. It felt somewhat clunky in her grip, and she had a harder time holding it up than the other two had. Arthur watched her curiously, and he couldn't help but laugh as she swung the sword.

"I guess that makes three of us that need practice."

Arthur nodded in kind, and he seemed less and less stressed than before. He looked up to the sky, admiring the clouds and the warm, spring weather. He wished that days could always be like this: quiet, carefree, and none of the nonsense that had come with him gaining the kingdom. He walked over and reclaimed his wooden sword, giving it a few practice swings. Hazel paused what she was doing and looked at him. Slowly a wicked little smirk etched its way across her lips. Just as Arthur paused to rest, she lunged at him and swung her wooden sword.

"Woah! What? Woah!"

Arthur, not expecting the assault, began to stumble backward. In the process, his sword arm swung upwards, and he deflected Hazel's attack. The girl pressed forward, knocking Arthur further backward until the boy finally found his footing and held up his sword to block. The blades collided with a loud crack, and Hazel grinned wickedly. Arthur breathed hard as his heart began to beat madly in his chest. He hadn't expected Hazel to act like this, as any girl he had ever met in the past, which were few, had only ever wanted to wear pretty dresses and that sort of thing. Hazel, however, was proving to be quite the opposite. She was having mad fun as she pressed her assault, and it was difficult for him to keep up. Percival was likewise stunned, and he whispered a silent prayer in thanks that his mother wasn't here to see this. Oh, the things she would say.

At last, Arthur found his footing once more. This time, he attacked and forced her back. Hazel giggled madly, her feet a blur as she stepped back. They carried on for a few more minutes until they both collapsed onto the ground, both breathing hard and gasping for air. After a few moments, Arthur began to chuckle, and then he started to laugh. Hazel soon followed suite, followed by Percival. The three friends rolled against the ground and clung tightly to their sides as they let the mirth of the moment take hold. After a short fit of giggles and guffaws, they finally regained their composure and allowed themselves to breathe.

"Splendid work on your part, Miss Hazel." Percival gasped with a small smile.

"I believe that was just what we all needed."

"You got that right." Arthur said between breathes before sitting upright.

"I don't even remember the last time I was able to laugh like that. I'm actually sorry it stopped."

"Then allow me to remedy that, lad!"

The trio looked up to Merlin and Archimedes walking out into the courtyard, the friendly wizard carrying a picnic basket in one hand, and a large blanket in the other.

"You have all been working hard lately in your schooling," Merlin said.

"So Archimedes and I have decided to treat you all to a well-deserved picnic. I have plenty of wonderful food and a few games I am sure you will enjoy."

Percival and Hazel beamed with excitement, and they both scrambled to their feet.

"A welcome idea, sir Merlin." Percival said.

Hazel nodded feverishly in agreement. As for Arthur, however, the boy was frowning with uncertainty.

"I don't know, Merlin. I mean, I am the king, and I should probably be here if…"

"Nonsense boy!" Merlin interjected, cutting him off.

"Even kings need time for rest and relaxation. I mean just look at you, when was the last time you had a decent night's sleep."

Arthur opened his mouth.

"…that's what I thought," Merlin continued, leaving Arthur with his mouth hanging open.

"Now then, it's settled. I've already set up a wagon out front, so let's be on our way. Come on, lad. Pick up the pace. Pick up! Pick up!"

Merlin started ushering Arthur along with his cane, and Hazel and Percival fell in behind them. Before they knew it, they were bouncing down the road and onto the beautiful countryside. For Hazel, it was almost like going home. Living in the castle could, at times, be very gloomy, and she missed the sights and smells of nature. They came to a stop in a meadow a few yards away from a nearby forest. Hazel was the first to bounce out of the cart, dancing her way through a patch of wild flowers. Merlin laughed as he watched her go, and he soon followed along with Arthur and Percival. As the bespectacled soothsayer spread out a blanket, Percival came up carrying the basket. He was wearing a puzzled expression.

"Master Merlin, how much actually did you pack? I don't mean to sound like I'm bragging or anything, but there's hardly any weight to this basket."

Merlin grinned at him and chuckled.

"My boy, you should know me better than that by now. Open the lid, won't you? Arthur, Hazel, have a seat."

The two did as they were told, and Percival lifted the lid on the basket. Merlin produced his wand, and he tapped the side of the basket three times.

"Higitus figutus! Hockety Pockety!"

The basket suddenly bounced up and down, and then small plates began to weave their way out of the basket. They then grew to regular size, and they were followed by Merlin's tea set. Within moments, an entire feast's worth of food had presented itself before them, and the students cheered at their teacher's handiwork. Merlin allowed himself a chuckle a playful bow, incidentally knocking Archimedes off of his cap.

"You are all too kind. Feel free to dig in, kids. There's plenty to go around."

There was no hesitation on the children's part. They quickly got to work sampling Merlin's wares, and their faces were evidence enough that they approved. Both Arthur and Percival were making quick work of a roasted chicken while Hazel quietly tended to a salad and hazel nuts, and she was doing her best not to be disgusted by the sight. She had come to terms with the diets of humans, especially thanks to Merlin's science lesson and her own personal experiences. Some creatures preferred meat while other ate vegetables. However, that didn't mean she had to like the sight of it. When the meal was finished, Merlin stood and popped a kink in his back.

"Alright, then. What say we have a little fun before we dive into the dessert, eh?"

He extended his arms and pulled on his right sleeve.

"Nothing in this sleeve."

He opened the other sleeve. "Nothing in this sleeve."

He then scratched his chin thoughtfully and pat his sides.

"Now where did I put that thing?"

Suddenly, his eyes brightened.

"Aha! Of course! It's under my hat."

He lifted his hat, and out fell a ball and a long, flat stick with a round handle. This brought about another cheer from the children, though they were all also wearing confused looks. Arthur gathered up the items, and he studied them carefully.

"What are these for, Merlin?"

"Cricket, my boy!" Merlin said with no small amount of excitement.

"It is a sport that won't be invented for another thousand years or so, but I felt that you all deserved a special treat."

Percival took the cricket bat from Arthur with a look of utter amazement.

"Fascinating. Truly astounding. I do marvel at your powers at times, Master Merlin."

Merlin gave them a deep bow.

"Thank you, Percy, I deeply appreciate the compliment. Now then," he took the bat and the ball back. "Let's play ball!"

In a matter of moments, a set of wooden stakes called wickets were set up a few feet apart from one another. Percival was the first at bat, and he eagerly stood waiting for Merlin to toss the ball, or, as the elder had put it, bowl it. The old wizard had exchanged his hat for a baseball cap, which he flipped backwards. He stepped back from his wicket a small ways, took a running start, and then he pitched the ball towards Percival. It bounced once, and then Percival struck it right and true. The ball bounced outside of the pitch area twice before Arthur dove for it. By then, Percival had already scored a run at the first wicket, and he was running for the second to score another. Arthur scrambled for the second post, and he slid across the ground and tapped the ball to the wicket just before Percival could score another run.

"Runner out!" Merlin declared. "Masterful try, Percy, but its Hazel's turn now."

The young knight nodded, and he handed the cricket bat to Hazel.

"Godspeed, Miss Hazel. I will be rooting for you."

The girl nodded and she took the bat with zeal. She trotted over to her wicket and she waggled the bat readily for the bowl. Merlin tossed the ball, and it bounced once across the ground. Hazel swung the bat, but it was a bit too soon. The ball bounced against the wicket, and Merlin declared the first strike. Hazel frowned as Percival tossed the ball back to Merlin, but she immediately struck a ready pose as the old wizard lined up again for another bowl. There went the pitch, and Hazel swung her bat. There was a sharp crack, and Hazel giggled with glee as it bounced a few feet away.

"Run, Hazel!" Percival commanded.

"Grab the ball, Arthur!" Merlin called.

Both individuals immediately dropped into sprints. Arthur managed to scoop up the ball, and he spun around to throw the ball at the wicket. However, his legs became tangled due to the sudden motion, and he fell down flat on his face. Hazel immediately stopped, and she rushed over to where he was. She helped him to his feet and looked him over. There had been a rock where he had fallen, and he had torn his shirt and scratched his stomach. Hazel grew concerned, and she beckoned Merlin over. The elderly wizard's cap disappeared and replaced itself with his usual hat, and he trotted over and inspected Arthur.

"No worries, Hazel." he said with a smile.

"Just a scratch. You alright, lad?"

Arthur slowly got to his knees, and he had his head lowered.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He got up, and he started to walk off.

"Uh, I-I need a minute."

Merlin frowned as he watched him go, and he looked to his other students.

"Percival, why don't you and Hazel clean up the lunch area? I'll be right back."

He briskly made his way after the young king with Archimedes flying alongside him. They found Arthur sitting at the edge of a river, absently throwing rocks into the water. Merlin moved in and took a seat at his side. Very carefully so as not to startle his young ward, he gingerly set his hand on his shoulder, and he cleared his throat.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Arthur didn't speak for a long moment as he stared down at his own reflection in the water's surface. At last, he looked up to his teacher.

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I'm trying to have fun, I really, really am. It's just that all I can think about is that, when it's all over, the madness will just start all over again. People will be piling into the throne room bringing me problems I don't know how to solve. The Saxons are going to burn down another village, and just be gone by the time I even think to send anyone. Not to mention that any time I've tried to make alliances with the local nobles, they just laugh in my face. It's the same thing over and over every day because nobody will take me seriously."

Merlin frowned. There were times he forgot that Arthur was only thirteen years old. Even with Merlin's guidance, he was still very much a child, and responsibilities like this would be crushing on even the most experienced of men. He opened his mouth in an attempt to say something soothing, but nothing came. What could he say? That everything would get better soon? That would be the worst possible lie he could tell the boy, especially at this point. It was only going to get harder from here on. Arthur flashed his mentor a pitiful look, as though he were looking for something.

"Merlin, you always say that knowledge and wisdom were the real power. So, tell me what I gotta do that'll make this better. You just have to know!"

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck as a large lump grew in his throat. He was silent for a few moments as he gathered his thoughts, and then he sighed.

"Lad, I'm afraid that there isn't much I can tell you. True, I did say that knowledge was the root of all greatness, but that is just one of the main keys needed to truly become a man of character."

Arthur felt his heart sink to his feet. This was certainly not what he had wanted to hear, and it only added to his mounting grief. However, he did see a small ray of hope within his instructor's grim words.

"If that is just one of the keys, then what else is there?"

Merlin smiled.

"I'm glad you asked, lad. First of all, there's…"

Suddenly, there was a loud scream, and the two jolted to standing positions. Arthur listened carefully, and he was certain he could hear the sounds of battle along with shouts from Percival. Arthur suddenly bolted off in the direction of the quarrel.

"Wart! Wait!" Merlin called after his protégé. He rushed to follow after him, but he tripped over the trim of his robe.

"Infernal thing!"

Arthur pumped his legs hard until he could at last see the sight where they had been having their picnic, and then the scene unfolded before him. There was two of them; a pair of men dressed from head to toe in fur. They were bulky brutes, and one of them even bore a Saxon flag like a cape across his back. Arthur didn't recognize these men from any reports given by the local knights around his kingdom, but one did have a wolf tattoo on his arm signifying his allegiance was to none other than Averil's lot. But that wasn't frightened Arthur most. No, it was the fact that Hazel was being held under the flag bearer's arm, kicking and screaming madly in a futile attempt to escape his grip. As for Percival, the older boy was warding off the second attacker with the cricket bat. He ducked under a swipe from the enemy's sword, and then he bashed him hard in the hard, knocking him now. As for his companion, however, had already saddled onto his horse, and he rode off with Hazel in tow. Arthur didn't have the time to think about it. He scrambled about looking for some means to chase after them, and his gaze fell on the other man's horse. He rushed over to the old nag and jumped up for the stirrup. However, as his lousy luck would have it, the action had startled his new mount. The horse reared back onto its back legs, causing Arthur to get his leg tangled up in the stirrup.

"Woah? What? Woah!"

Just like that, the horse took off with Arthur hanging on for dear life onto the side of the saddle. Fortunately, the horse was galloping in the same direction as its former master's partner. Arthur clung madly to the running mare as they closed in on his target. Within moments, the two horses were side-by-side. From his position on the horse, Arthur could see that he was perfectly adjacent to the saddle strap on the other horse, though it was a long reach. Nevertheless, he had to try. He leaned forward, trying his hardest to grab the strap, though it always seemed to evade his hand at just the last moment. He could now feel his feet slipping loose from his horse's stirrup. Met with no other option, Arthur coiled his legs and brought himself closer to the side of his horse. Then, with what little muscle he could muster, he sprang outward, coming loose from his horse's stirrup and grapping onto the saddle strap of the other horse. The sudden weight caused it to pull loose, and now the Saxon's saddle was starting to slip to one side. No longer able to maintain his balance, the man fell over to one side of his horse with Hazel in tow, and the two rolled across the ground as the horse galloped away without a single thought. Arthur also hit the dirt, just narrowly evading the horse's stomping hooves, and he slowly got up to his knees. The Saxon had already recovered, and his green eyes burned with a feral rage.

"You sniveling likkle brat!" he bellowed as he produced a wooden club. "I'll box ye wot good for makin' me trip!"

Arthur struggled to his feet, trying his best to muster up a look that was meant to intimidate. Instead, he looked more like he was having a stomach ache.

"You are outside of your territory, Saxon! I order you to return to the lands you came from!"

The man got a good laugh out of that.

"O' really? Well, who do ye think ye are to be tellin' me to get?"

Arthur straightened his spine to make himself taller, and he pushed back his fear to keep his voice from cracking.

"My name is Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther Pendragon, and I am the king of all England!"

To Arthur's shock, the declaration seemed to stun his new foe. For a few fleeting moments, Arthur actually felt that he may force his opponent to retreat, but his hopes were dashed when the big oaf began to laugh so hard that he had to lean over to catch his breathe.

"You?!" he gasped between breathes. "Ye ain't nottin' but a beardless welp! That were a good jest."

Arthur managed to maintain his glare, though he took a tiny step back.

"I AM the king, and if you don't back off, then I will…"

By then, the man was standing in front of him, and he seized Arthur by the front of the shirt, lifting him up off the ground. Arthur now had a clear view of the ugly man's face, his rancid breath, and his yellow, crooked teeth.

"Go on ahead, whelp." he hissed, pulling Arthur closer. "Whatcha gonna do?"

Unbeknownst to the two, Hazel had recovered from her fall, and she gave her head a shake to clear it. She then spied Arthur's predicament, and a curtain of red shaded over her eyes. Without a moment's thought, she charged in, dived for one of the Saxon's legs, and then bit down hard. The man suddenly forgot about the boy in his hand, dropping him, and he bellowed with rage. He bent down and yanked Hazel away from his leg.

"Why ye likkle pest! I'll fix you, I will!"

"I think not, my ill speaking friend!"

Merlin had at last caught up with Arthur, and by now he was fuming angry. With stick in hand, he charged onto the battlefield as he declared his spell.

"Higgitus, figgutus, wockety, WAP! Lightning strike with a zap and a ZAP!"

The sky grew dark, and, with a clap of thunder, a bolt of lightning streaked down. The man released Hazel, whom scrambled to get away, but it was too late to avoid the bolt. It struck him head on, leaving him a smoldering mess. It hadn't killed him, that wasn't Merlin's style, but it had given him enough of a jolt to make him realize that he was outmatched. With that, he turned on his heel, and he started to run away, all the while smaller bolts of lightning struck the ground behind him until he vanished behind a hill. Merlin, now satisfied, then marched over to Arthur as Hazel helped him to his feet.

"Thank goodness I got here in time." he said with heavy relief. "Are you both alright? Anything broken or otherwise?"

Arthur shook their heads.

"I'm a little scuffed up from when I fell off the horse, but other than that I'm alright."

He looked to Hazel. The girl was a mess, but it was neither the bruises on her arms or how disheveled her hair had become that made her upset. It was, instead, the sight of her red dress, which had been torn in several places. It had been her only real possession since her transformation, and she loved the color red. To see it in such a state was almost too much for her to bear. Arthur watched her carefully for a moment, and then he smiled sympathetically.

"Don't worry." he said, setting a hand on her shoulder. "I'll have the royal seamstresses repair it for you when we get back to the castle. It will be as good as new."

Hazel looked at him. Before Arthur could react, she pulled him into a tight hug, silently crying onto his shoulder. To say the least, Arthur was stunned, and he was left without any ideas on what to do. He wanted to consult Arthur, but he didn't dare move. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her to console her.

"Hey, it's gonna be alright. You're safe, and we're all ok."

It was a couple of moments before Hazel finally released him. She flashed him a smile, and then, as best as she could, she mumbled, "T-th-ank y-you."

Arthur returned her smile with one of his own.

"You're welcome. C'mon, we'd better get back to Percival. I've think the picnic is over."

Hazel nodded, and she started back for the picnic sight. Arthur started to follow, but Merlin pulled him back. He was grinning from ear to ear, and he was just bubbling with pride.

"My boy, that must have been the most excellent display of heroism I have ever seen. Simply marvelous!"

Arthur blushed, and he rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"What's more," Merlin went on, "I think you have found two more keys to becoming a great king."

Arthur perked up at that, and he looked to Merlin eagerly.

"Really? What are they?"

Merlin took the boy by the shoulders, looked him in the eye, and then flashed him the largest smile he could muster.

"Courage, my boy. Courage and compassion."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Face of Evil

It can be said that stormy weather is the sign of an ill omen. Rain emblemizes the sorrow of tears as they pelt the earth like mallets. The lightning symbolizes the sudden flash of terror, followed by the boom of thunder that symbolizes cries of regret. Such weather acts as the opening of the curtain for a terrible tragedy, and such is the case of the weather on this particular day. Thunder and lightning crackled along the sky over a dense wood sitting at the foot of massive mountain, where nestled within a near unnavigable forest maze was a massive manor. From within the ghostly villa, a number of sounds could be heard, the loudest of which being several voices hollering out with songs of victory. Inside of the manor and in a large dining hall could be found a rowdy crowd of men. They were drinking from large mugs and singing as loudly and as off key as they could, and some were even fighting. Several more were making suggestive looks at the frightened maids that were busily going to and fro refilling their mugs and ultimately trying to avoid eye contact. Sitting above them all in a throne of oak was perhaps the wildest of them all. He was a massive brute of unquestionable strength dressed from head to toe in black bear skin that was parted at his chest, revealing a large tattoo of a wolf's head. His hair was also an oily shade of black, and it ran down past his shoulders. He also possessed a dark complexion and short black beard. He was a monster of a man, and he simply devoured the scene before him with his blood red eyes. He was Averil the Wild, and he and his band were untouchable. Placing his powerful palms upon the rests of his throne, he arose, and immediately a hush fell amongst his men as they looked to him.

"My loyal friends!" he called out with a loud voice. "Let us take this time to slow down and recount our most recent conquests. In this very week alone, we have taken three villages…"

There was a loud cheer.

"…burned down four farms…"

An even larger cheer erupted from the men.

"…acquired quite a few lovely ladies…"

There was a chorus of whistles this time, causing many of the women present to shiver.

"…and, best of all, we have done it all without so much as a challenge from the so called king of England!"

This time, the men cut loose with a grand cheer.

"So, by all means my dear followers." he threw out his arms. "EAT, DRINK, AND BE MERRY! WE ARE UNTOUCHABLE! HAR HAR HAR!"

"HUZZAH! HUZZAH!"

Averil took a seat in his thrown once again, taking a freshly poured mug from a nearby maid and gulped it down in one swig.

"Ah! 'Tis the good life. I swear that absolutely nothing could go wrong now. Or my name isn't Averil the Wild."

Suddenly, the doors of the great hall suddenly flew open as a ghastly wind blew out all of the torches. The singing and shouting suddenly stopped, and all eyes were glued to the doorway. Standing there was a lone, small figure. Whoever or whatever it was, it was dressed in a black cloak that covered their entire body. The only part of them that was visible was their chin, a very pale protrusion. The figure strode into the room with clear confidence, and it would occasionally toss glances from beneath its hood to the nearby men. It stopped when it had brushed past one of the maids, whom was cowering on the floor with a tablecloth clutched tightly in her fist. The figure lifted their face, and the woman could now see the face of a fourteen-year-old girl.

"Get on your feet! Show some decorum!"

The woman immediately snapped to her feet, even straightening her spine. Though carrying the voice of a child, she wielded the authority of a monster. Those dark brown eyes of hers were nothing more than two voids of evil and darkness. To put it in a word, she was frightening. The girl continued down the massive dining hall until she was standing before Averil, whom seemed more annoyed than threatened. He sat lazily upon his throne, his mug halfway empty, and he fixed the figure with an easy look.

"Morgan Le Fay, what an unexpected surprise! What brings our resident dark sorcerous amongst us?"

The girl, Morgan, removed her hood, and she bore a hard gaze upon Averil. It seemed she was upset, which did not bode well for those in the room.

"It is not pleasure that brings me here, Averil." she said, spitting out the last word with spite. "I would like start with a reminder of how none of what you see before you would be yours if not for my power."

Averil rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes, I would be nothing without your magic. You created this manor house, and even the inescapable maze through which only me and my men can navigate. Your magic is a blessing upon us all."

"Then by all means, explain something to me." Morgan said. She slowly strode closer to Averil, and she looked him dead in the eye. "Why is it that I am always giving, giving, and giving, but you never fulfill your end of the bargain?"

"Now wait just one blasted minute!" Averil bellowed as he erupted from his throne, his mug clattering to the floor as its contents splattered in all directions. "I have always done as you asked. I've burned farms, terrorized villages, and spread fear in the hearts of man. What more could you possibly want?!"

Morgan scoffed.

"You know exactly what I want, and, a few days ago, two of your men had a chance to fulfill my darkest dream only to fail. Miserably!"

This seemed to settle Averil's temper, and he fixed the young girl with a confused look.

"What do you mean?"

Morgan turned her back to Averil, and she studied the crowd of men that littered the room like cockroaches. She extended her hand and pointed a finger, and she fanned out as though looking for someone.

"Two of your incompetent excuses for minions encountered England's king, the greatest of all prizes. However, rather than dealing the final blow and ending his breathe, the cowardly insects turned and fled."

Her finger at last landed on two of Averil's men, and their comrades immediately moved aside, further exposing them. Averil narrowed his gaze, and he motioned them closer. The two men exchanged glances, and they slowly made their way to the front. Though looked as though they were about to attend their own funeral.

"Duncan, Cale," Averil began as he seated himself again. "Would you care to explain these accusations Morgan has placed upon you?"

The one on the left with a bald head sporting a red welt, Duncan, was sweating heavily as her nervously wrung his hands together.

"Well, A-averil, s-s-sir," he stammered, "A-ah can't say I know what she m-m-means. W-we just interrupted some picnickers the other day is all. R-r-right, Cale?"

The one on the right, Cale the flagbearer, was at first shaking his head, but a quick jab from Duncan's elbow quickly set him straight.

"R-r-right. We don't know nuthin'!"

Morgan didn't look convinced. She slowly approached the two men, which produced a rather absurd scene: two massive men of great strength and vulgarity cowering like frightened kittens in the presence of one small girl. When she was no further than a whisper's length from them, she fixed them both with a neutral expression. She took a moment to revel in their shivering fright. Strip away a man's ability to intimidate, and they are nothing more than frightened sheep. She loved it.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate men?" she asked. Her tone was low and even, but it had the effect of a cobra's rattle. "Vile and arrogant creatures, they are. They believe that might is the only way to get things done, and with such tiny minds they are incapable of thinking otherwise."

She strode just a half inch closer with her eyes locked on Cole, causing him to bite his lower lip while his eyes went bloodshot.

"Such terrible, selfish creatures, men are, but there are times that they can be useful and even, to certain degrees, forgiven for their idiotic tendencies. But do you know what kind of man I cannot forgive?"

She was now standing toe to toe with Cole, looking him dead in the eyes. She took the man gently by the front of his tunic, and she pulled him closely, putting her mouth to his ear.

"I really, really hate men that lie to my face."

That did it. Cole screamed out in abject horror, and he backpedaled away from the demon woman.

"His name was Arthur! He claimed he was the king!"

The room fell silent, and now all eyes were on him. Cole placed a hand over his mouth. What had he done?

Morgan smiled in spite of herself, and she strode back over to Averil, now standing at his side. The large man now wore a bloodthirsty look.

"Duncan, Cole, do you care to elaborate on what happened the other day?"

Duncan was shooting his companion with a furious look, but he did his best to compose himself before their leader.

"Aye sir, it be true. We jist didn't want to offend ye, is why we didn't say before."

"Offend me?"

"Aye, sir. We said it was a picnic, but it was actually a hunting party. Big group. Several hundreds of men armed to the teeth and hunting wild boars. Boars the size of stallions. One beaned me hard on the head, ya see, and that's why I got this awful shiner. Thought I was gonna die, I did. Cole here saved my life. Took on the king himself, he did. He was as big as three…no! Five men! Fought him to a bloody stand still! But then the coward turned this all powerful sorcerer on us. Blasted us with lightning from the sky. There was nothing we could do, so we ran. That's what happened."

He looked at Averil and Morgan hopefully, but he was disappointed to see that they looked more annoyed than impressed. Averil was sitting with his head prompted on his hand, and Morgan wore a disproving frown. The two exchanged glances, and then they shook their heads.

"I may not have been there," Averil began. "but even I can tell that was one whopper of a lie."

"Indeed." Morgan hissed in agreement.

Both Cole and Duncan seemed to deflate, their secret exposed. This time, it was Cole's turn to give an explanation.

"It was just four of them: two boys, a girl, and an old man. One of the boys and the old man had walked off for some reason, so we decided to attack. While Duncan was fighting the other boy, I grabbed the girl. I figured she would make a good scullery maid, ya see. However, the other boy had stolen Duncan's horse and chased after me. He somehow knocked me down, and I dropped the girl. The boy then claimed he was the king, but I just laughed in his face. That is when the old man attacked. That part of Duncan's story is true; he was a sorcerer. I didn't think we would get away with our lives. But that is the real story. I still don't think he was the king, much too scrawny and didn't even have a beard yet, but the sorcerer was definitely the real deal."

When he finished, Averil looked to Morgan.

"How about that one? Was that believable?"

The girl nodded.

"Yes, that one sounds more accurate." She sighed. "Blasted Merlin. I knew he was going to be a pain."

"So is that good enough?" Cale asked, and Morgan looked at him quizzically. "You said it yourself. If a man has a good enough excuse, they can actually be forgiven. So, we're forgiven, right?"

Both he and Duncan sunk to their knees, and they were looking as pitiful as possible. Morgan hummed thoughtfully, and she placed a hand to her chin as she thought hard.

"I did say that, didn't I?" She said, and both Cale and Duncan looked hopeful.

"Unfortunately, this is not one of those times."

Both men's eyes grew wide with abject terror. They immediately scrambled to their feet and began to run for the door as fast as their legs could carry them. Morgan did not move from her spot, and she tossed back her hood. Her eyes blazed with a supernatural light, and she extended her hand and pointed her finger. It should also be said that she was smirking with a devilish grin.

"IHiggitus, figgutus, MARLYBONE!

Transform these worthless savages into solid STONE!/i"

Duncan and Cale were almost to the door, and Duncan even had his hand extended towards the door. Suddenly, they both froze where they stood. Before the entire crowd's eyes, their bodies grew stiff and began to turn grey. Within moments, two statues now stood where two human beings used to be. The room was silent, the entire congregation stunned by Morgan's horrible spell. Even Averil was awestruck, and his face sagged into a disappointed look.

"Oh, come now, Morgan. Was that really necessary? I'll admit Duncan and Cale weren't the sharpest among my men, but even they didn't deserve such a fate."

The girl spun on her heel, and she flashed the man a sour look.

"Don't start with me, Averil! They failed to do what I asked, and therefore they had to pay!"

She turned back to the congregation.

"And let that be a lesson to the lot of you! I alone am the only reason you have not been captured, killed, or otherwise! To fail me will result not only in the loss of that protection, but I will unleash a fury far greater than any inferior man could! Am I clear?!"

There was a collective nod amongst the group, and even a few whimpers amongst the masses. Satisfied, Morgan turned back to Averil with her expression unchanged.

"The same goes for you, Averil. Don't forget that everything you have is because of my generosity, and everything I have given," she placed a hand over Averil's, "I can just as easily take it away."

Averil felt his hand slowly beginning to itch. He looked down, and his eyes bulged as he saw thick black hair begin to sprout where Morgan had her hand placed. Averil immediately pulled away from her, the hair receding the instant they were separated. He scowled at the girl and bared his teeth, snarling savagely.

"Just what is it you want, you miserable little wretch?!"

Morgan scoffed, and she went nose to nose with Averil. "I've told you enough times that I shouldn't have to repeat myself. I want the king dead, and you are going to help me do it!"

Averil snorted. "Oh, really. And just how, pray tell, am I supposed to do that? Even if the king is a boy like they said, Uther's castle in London is a fortress. Not even my lot is stupid enough to invade it in broad daylight."

Morgan backed away from him, and he could see that she was now smirking again.

"Oh, feeble minded man. Once again, it is obvious which of us is the superior one. The plan is already in motion even as we speak. You see, in three days it will be the king's birthday. I want you and a battalion of your best men to meet me on the outskirts of the city, and there you will learn my intentions. No sooner, no later."

With that, she turned and started to walk away, the men giving her the wide birth of a leper. She paused at the door, and she tossed one final hateful look towards Averil, her eyes aglow with magic.

"I expect results this time, Averil, and I mean results that matter. Failure will mean consequences, and I believe you know what I mean."

With that, Morgan made her way out the door and was gone. Even with her ghastly presence gone, there was an air of menace still prevailing throughout the dining hall, and it left the men in a quivering silence. As for Averil himself, silent fury had overtaken him. He despised that girl with his every fiber of his entire being. The fact that she could waltz in her, berate him in front of his men, turn two of his own into statues, and threaten him without so much as a single challenge was enough to throw him into a frenzy. Never the less, he knew better than to allow himself to be rattled. He had an appearance to maintain. A maid timidly presented another mug for him, which he snatched away, swigged down in one large gulp, belched loudly, and then tossed the mug aside. He then rose to his feet and cleared his throat.

"My fine fellows!" He boomed, and his men looked to him. "In three days, we will make history as the greatest men of Britain's history. In three days, we will storm the castle of London town, and we will raze it and slaughter any that oppose us. Today, we have the forest! In three days, we will have London! So, until the time has come, EAT, DRINK, AND PREPARE FOR VICTORY!"

His speech seemed to have the right effect, and within moments they were eating and drinking once again. It had been like the evil woman had never been there, or so Averil had wished. He didn't know what Morgan had in mind for him or his men, but he knew one thing: he was going to hate it, no matter how much fun he was going to have.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As of yet, this is the last chapter, and I unfortunately must report that I do have other projects I work on, mostly on Deviantart. What's more, my home life can be a bit hectic, too. That being said, I promise to do my best to publish as many chapters as I can, but it is purely dependent on how inspired I'll feel at a given moment. For those that have just come to this story, thank you dearly for the support, and by all means feel free to share your criticisms, so long as they're clean. See you next chapter.

Chapter 9: Birthday Gifts and a Curse

Hazel gave up trying to figure out what was going on.

From the moment she woke up, the entire castle was in a tizzy. The maids were madly cleaning every floor of the castle from top to bottom, and the menservants were raising banners over every arch and column. There cooks were working their craft with a fury, bringing up the sickening scent of roasted boar, goose, turkey, and chicken, though Hazel’s stomach was eased by the more pleasant scents of cookies, cakes, and pies. Outside the gardeners were tending to the topiaries as well as cutting the grass and picking up any and all stray leaves. It was complete and utter chaos, and poor Hazel had been ultimately forgotten in the craze.

With not much else to do, Hazel made her way to the throne room in the hopes of finding Arthur or Percival. No luck there, but she did spy Merlin, Archimedes, Sir Ector, and Kay. She strode over to them, and she began to pick up on the conversation.

“How?!” Merlin was demanding, his eyes crossed with rage. “I asked you to do one thing, Ector! One thing! How in the world could you blunder something so simple?!”

“Get off my case, you old goat!” Ector roared in rebuttal. “It’s not like I don’t have my own responsibilities around the blasted castle!”

“Oh, absolutely! Chewing on turkey legs and lounging about in your quarters all day. What excellent accomplishments!”

“I do more than that, and you know it!”

“And yet you couldn’t get a present for the boy you took in as a baby and raised into the future king of England?”

Sir Ector’s face had turned deep, burning shade of red.

“I…did not…forget!” he growled. “I just…misplaced it.”

“Oh, really?” the wizard asked, crossing his arms and looking skeptical. “And just how, pray tell, did that happen?”

Ector turned an evil eye towards Kay, whom shriveled up as a result.

“Let’s just say it involves a prank that went too far, and a boy who’s still in a lot of trouble.”

Merlin looked around Ector’s shoulder to look at him, and he sneered before looking back to Ector.

“Well, you’d better figure something out! Might I remind you that, in spite of all the horrible things you did to him, he wanted you and Kay to come and live with him here in the castle.”

“I didn’t treat him that badly.” Ector muttered defensively. “I just…toughened him up is all.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” Merlin grumped. “Fortunately for you, it would appear that the minstrels I conscripted for entertainment were suddenly taken ill with the mumps. I’d call it some form of cruel irony given how Arthur got in this mess to begin with, but for you it is a saving grace. Provided you and your dimwitted son can do one blasted thing right, I suggest that you go out and find some form of entertainment.”

“In one day?” Ector balked. “Not even a whole day! Arthur’s party will start in the afternoon, dash it all!”

“And that, as the kids would say, is your problem.” Merlin said, giving his whiskers a little twist as he turned on his heel and marched off.

He happened upon Hazel, and the duo made their way into hallway.

“And a good morning to you, my dear.” he greeted kindly. “I apologize that you had to see me at my ugliest. I swear, if it isn’t that man’s pride, it’s his son’s slothful behavior. I try to be patient, but I have my limits.”

“A waste of time, says I.” Archimedes tutted.

Hazel cocked her head, not entirely following. But, then again, that went for this whole morning in its entirety. She gleaned that it had something to do with Arthur, but just what had he done to warrant all this chaos? She started to point to one of the banners with the words written on them, but she caught herself. She didn’t have to do that. After all, what had she been working on with Archimedes? She still pointed to a banner, but she pursed her lips as she tried to form the words.

“W-what…iszz…it?”

Merlin beamed, ecstatic at her progress whilst Archimedes puffed himself up with pride. He looked to the banner, and his grin widened.

“Ah, yes, that’s right! You’ve never even heard of a birthday, have you? After all, squirrels are usually lucky to see the next sunrise. Nevermind the day they are born.”

They started to walk down the hall, and Merlin explained the situation. A birthday party was a celebration of the day one was born. Technically, no one really knew when Arthur’s birthday truly was as there were no records of his father, King Uther, having children, but this particular date was when Sir Ector found the infant Arthur on his doorstep. To Hazel, it was a rather fascinating topic. Naturally, she didn’t remember the day she was born, nor had she any reason to celebrate. She truly did hate her old life: the scraping for an existence, constantly running from danger, and all while your instincts dictated everything you do. Sure, being human wasn’t always a picnic, and the other day proved that it could be just as dangerous with a whole new breed of predator, but she could at least decide what to do with herself and how she spent her time.

“What…can…do?” she asked, pointing to herself.

Merlin gave her a warm smile.

“I suppose they didn’t see need for a scullery maid this morning, eh? Bound to be a lot of work for you tonight, I suppose. In the meantime, I was on my way out to the courtyard. Arthur and Percival are already there greeting the guests. Arthur expects that some good alliances could be made if things go well, so he’s striving to make a good first impression.”

He sighed.

“Of course, that won’t leave much room for him to actually enjoy the party on his own. The poor boy is a workhorse, I swear.”

Hazel made a sour face, and she cocked her head. Arthur wasn’t a horse. She didn’t get the chance to correct him, however, as they soon made their way into the courtyard proper where several horse drawn carts were gathered. Arthur was busily moving from one snobby looking noble to the next, doing his best to be courteous and kind as Percival dutifully followed the child king, extending his own greetings and curtsies. Ultimately, most nobles didn’t seem to offer Arthur more than a stare or a disgusted sneer. It was a very chilly atmosphere, and it only made Arthur’s stutter all the worse. However, that wasn’t to say that there wasn’t a friendly face amongst the heads of strangers. Stepping down from a towering black mare was an equally towering fellow with equally dark hair and beard. He was a clean fellow, his beard trimmed in a perfect angle with his hair short and dignified. As soon as he laid eyes on Arthur, he smiled warmly, approached, and he dropped to one knee in a show of reverence.

“Hail, King Arthur! Long live the king!”

He had a booming voice, and it demanded the attention of those that were assembled. Arthur blushed a bit at the display, but he certainly appreciated something other than scorn and indifference.

“It’s good to see you again, Sir Bedivere.” He said.

Arthur truly liked Bedivere, not only because he was one of his greatest supporters, but simply because he was a just and honest man. He, alongside Pelinore, had been the one to let Arthur prove himself at the stone in the churchyard. Since then, he had done his best to aid the child king, often spearheading raids and hunting down that scoundrel, Averil the Wild. While not successful, Bedivere was no less a loyal retainer in service to his king.

“The pleasure, as always, is mine, your highness.” The knight boomed with a gentle smile.

He eyed Percival, and he offered him a nod.

“You are Pelinore’s boy, yes?”

Percival beamed, and he stood tall and straight.

“Aye, sir! I am Sir Percival, knight of the court of Arthur, and, might I say, it is an honor to meet you at last. I often hear the bards near the taverns singing praises of your many noble deeds and gripping adventures. Truly there is no greater knight in all of Europe than you, sir.”

“I can think of a few fellows that would strongly disagree.” Bedivere quipped dryly. “But I have no use for bards and songs of my deeds. My duty is solely to his majesty and the safety of the people. If I can have my way, the world will be a lovely and peaceful place, and not a single soul would know of my involvement. That, dear Percival, is the true measure of a knight.”

Stars shimmered in Percival’s eyes as he marveled at the great knight. That was it right there. That humility, that honor, that noble spirit: that was the kind of knight he strove to be like. If he was lucky, he would one day be half the knight Sir Bedivere was. Maybe he could convince him to stick around a while and give him some pointers.

“Sir Bedivere,” Arthur spoke up. “Maybe this isn’t the best time or place to ask, but before coming did you maybe…”

“Learn the whereabouts of Averil the Wild?” Bedivere interjected, earning him a nod from Arthur. “Sadly not. I swear, the man is like a shadow, casting his darkness wherever it will reach, only to immediately vanish when the light touches him. What’s worse, from what few witness accounts I’ve managed to collect, it seems that his fellowship has grown at least three times in the space of his last few raids. The entirety of his forces must be rather sizable by now, but that’s merely my humble estimation.”

Arthur’s face suddenly became very pale, and a lurch in his stomach alerted him to his rising sickness. Luckily, Bedivere was quick on the upkeep, and he gently pat the boy on the back to calm him.

“Now, now, let’s not think of such unsightly subjects. This is a day dedicated to you, and it shouldn’t be spent with merriment and laughter. Let the world outside these castle walls fade away and enjoy the simple pleasures in life.”

A large grin then came to his face.

“Which reminds me…”

He put his fingers to his lips, and he gave a shrill whistle. Arthur’s ears perked up at the sounds of hooves clacking on the cobblestone, and suddenly he was smiling from ear to ear. Coming down the path was the most gorgeous white mare he had ever seen in his life. It came to a stop just next to Bedivere, and the elder knight gently pet her mane before addressing the boy.

“Your majesty, while it may be a tad early, I would like to present you with my gift in honor of your birthday. This is Rhiannon, the foal of one of my prized riding mares. She’s of splendid stock, and she has inherited many of her parent’s strong traits. She’s young, but she is a well behaved and hard-working beast. For my king, I could think of no better steed for him to ride, either into the rages of war or for a simple stroll across the plains.”

Arthur’s movements were rigid as he approached the mare, only daring to touch her nose. The horse nuzzled his palm, and the prickling of the short hairs along her face further confirmed that this was no dream. Arthur at last had his own white charger, just as he had always wanted when he was a child. He had to wipe away some stray tears, trying his best to remain dignified in the presence of his guests, but he finally managed a nod to Sir Bedivere.

“Th-thank you…sir.” He managed with a small sputter. “Your gift is deeply appreciated. She’s perfect.”

Bedivere smiled in gratitude.

“I am glad you think so. She’s still has plenty of growing to do, but, if you’ll pardon my saying so milord, so do you. You’re a perfect pair, says I.”

Percival drew near as well, and he smiled at the mare as he inspected her.

“I know a thing or two about horse rearing, and I must say that you’re quite right about her being from your best stock. By the way, Rhiannon was the name of the hero king Pwyll’s wife, is it not?”

“Well observed.” Bedivere praised. “I met a Celtic druid in my travels, and he and his fellows saw her as a sort of matron of horses. Sort of a silly thing to say, but it certainly seemed to fit this young filly. She’s rather intelligent.”

By then, Hazel and Merlin had approached them, and the girl in red looked up to the horse. Intelligent? Hardly. She knew plenty well that the creature was likely just following its instincts as it was raised to behave. She could actually speak. What could the big white beast do beyond carrying sacks of potatoes on its back?

Merlin seemed to notice her looks as Arthur continued to marvel at his new steed, and he chuckled before gently poking her with his cane.

“Careful, child. Your green-eyed monster is showing.”

Hazel looked up at him, and she frowned. Her eyes were blue, and what monster was he talking about? Before she could inquire, Merlin approached Sir Bedivere.

“Good day, good sir. It’s Bedivere, yes? A pleasure to make your acquaintance proper. Sorry I missed you the first time; I was on vacation during the tournament. I must say, this is a rather generous gift you’ve given the boy. Such a mare would certainly be worth a shiny penny.”

Bedivere gave a warm chuckle as he watched Arthur, assisted by Percival, straddle the mare’s back as he got a feel for what riding her would be like. Just as he had trained her, Rhiannon remained perfectly still and patient.

“Every king should have a decent steed to ride.” He said stoically. “I and my family have raised horses since my greatest grandfather, and I would trust no other horse under my king than one I have personally raised. She will serve him well, I assure you master…”

“Merlin.” The wizard identified. “I quite agree, and I appreciate your commitment. Arthur is quite lucky to have a fellow like you in his court.”

“I am but a humble knight, sirrah.” Bedivere said. “If I can serve my king, then that is enough.”

Merlin smiled, and then he turned to Arthur.

“I know you probably want to spend more time with your new friend, lad, but there are still guests to entertain. We should head inside.”

Arthur groaned, not quite ready to leave his new friend’s side. Nevertheless, Merlin was right, as always, and he hopped down and signaled a stable hand to come and guide Rhiannon back to the stables. He sighed, but he did look much more chipper. Sir Bedivere was right. It was his birthday, and he had plenty of reason to enjoy it. He was surrounded by friends and family, and perhaps a few folks that didn’t like him all that much, and it was turning into a beautiful day. Perhaps it was a tad early to think as much, but maybe this was going to be his best birthday ever.

………………………………………

“OH, HANG IT ALL!!!”

Ector’s mood had certainly soured. They had gone from door to door all across the castle town, and not a single store or place of entertainment was open. What few bards, minstrels, or jugglers he had happened upon were apparently preoccupied with other engagements, and clearly none of them thought performing at a king’s birthday party was worth breaking their oaths. What was the world coming to when offering a king’s fortune wasn’t enough to make a man betray his morals? Since when were people so stodgy and rigid in their views? Granted, that last part was a bit of the pot calling the kettle black in Ector’s case, but this wasn’t the time to be observing his own faults.

He took a seat on a bench to rest his weary bones, and he wiped his sweaty brow with a handkerchief.

“Oh, hang it all.” He muttered again as he tried to cool himself off. “How hard is it to find one fool that can sing, dance, or hold your attention long enough for some mindless entertainment? I swear, that old goat canceled his minstrels on purpose purely for the sake of making me suffer.”

He waited for a response, but none came. Ector looked up, but he saw neither hide nor hair of his son Kay. He got to his feet, and he backtracked. Sure enough, his hunch was correct. Kay had stopped at a local fruit stand, where he had swiped some of the provisions. He was currently sucking on an orange as he lounged about in the shade of a nearby alley. Ector scowled, and he stormed over to son and slapped the fruit out of his hand.

“Yow!” Kay exclaimed, shaking his hand to wear away the soreness. “Geez, dad, what was that for?!”

“Would you be serious for one blasted minute of your life?!” Ector snapped angrily. “Might I remind you that we wouldn’t even be in this mess if you hadn’t of scared off Arthur’s horse.”

“I was just having a little fun.” Kay muttered in a weak defense.

“You scared off a horse that I spent nearly half what it costed me to buy our castle!” Ector snapped. “It’s your fault we’re in this mess to begin with! Thanks to you, Arthur doesn’t have a gift for his birthday.”

Kay snorted at the mention of his foster brother’s name.

“I don’t see the big deal. You never gave him gifts for his birthday before.”

“Exactly!” Ector roared, his face becoming beet red. “Outside of giving him a place to sleep, I’ve never done right by that boy since day one. I owe it to him to do better, especially now that he has so much to worry about being king.”

Kay snorted again.

“Wouldn’t be his problem if I was on the throne.”

Ector’s brow hitched up, and a nasty sneer crossed his lips.

“Kay, not today. Do not start that right now!”

“I should be king!” Kay said. “I worked for it! I went through all the trouble of being knighted and all that stupid stuff.”

“Do not…insult…the code of knighthood!” Ector growled, his fists trembling.

“Oh, who cares about that stuff?” Kay spat. “Phooey on it, and phooey on the wart, too!”

“Kay, don’t push me.” Ector warned.

“And you know what else?” Kay went on. “Life was a lot better before that brat ever came to the castle.”

“I COULD SAY THE SAME THING ABOUT YOU!!!”

It suddenly became very quiet. What few passersby there were stopped short and looked their way as Ector clapped a hand over his mouth though it was a meaningless notion. Words, after all, were not so easily stuffed into one’s mouth once they have been said. The look of betrayal and sadness on Kay’s face was devastating for Ector, shattering his heart.

“Kay, son,” he started, but it was already too late. Kay spun on his heel and took off, quickly vanishing into the crowd.

Ector was left standing there, shoulders sagging and his chin touching his sternum. He ran a hand over his face, tugging thoughtfully at his whiskers before letting out an aggravated groan.

“Oh, just hang me. Why is it I can never control that blasted temper of mine? What in the blazes can I do now?”

“Perhaps I could be of help, sir?”

Ector nearly jumped out of his skin, and he whirled about. Standing behind him was the smallest nun he had ever seen. She had to be about a head taller than Arthur, and the front of her hood concealed her face. Now, Ector wasn’t the most religious sort, but he knew to respect the women of the clothe. To do otherwise was a quick and easy way to get bad luck. His great grandfather was evidence of that. He quickly did a cross across his chest, and then he dipped his head respectfully.

“Good afternoon, sister.” He greeted, but then he took a closer look made him quirk his brow. “If you’ll pardon my nosiness, sister, aren’t you a bit young to be by yourself? Where are your parents?”

“I have no parents, good sir.” the young lady said. “I was left on the steps of the abbey, but do not fret for my humble soul. I am devoted to a great cause. But enough about me. You seem distressed. Is there perhaps something I can do for you?”

Ector rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly, and he looked up at the sky.

“Well, the thing is this. I’m helping prepare a party for a very special person…”

“For the king?” the nun asked. “I thought you were a knight. You hold the distinguished air of one.”

“Thank you for the compliment, sister.” Ector said, feeling a bit better. “And you’re right. I’m looking for some entertainment, but everyone is either closed or unavailable. Amazing considering this is a chance to entertain the king, the dev…”

He stopped short as he eyed the nun.

“Eh, excuse that last part.”

“I see.” She said. “Well, the Lord smiles down on you today, good sir. It just so happens that, on my way here, I happened upon a merry band of performers that were traveling across the plains. Perhaps they can be conscripted to assist you in your plight.”

Ector’s brightened. A band of performers? As in some sort of circus? That would be perfect! Arthur had used to pester him when he was younger to visit the one’s that came near the castle. Ector had always refused due to his…aversion, shall we say, to clowns. Still, if he was going to make things right between himself and the boy, this certainly felt like the right direction. However, speaking of making things right with his sons, he shot a glance back the way Kay had fled.

“You worry for the other one?” the nun asked. “Perhaps I can find him and convince him to return home. In the meantime, you can catch those performers and hire them.”

Ector took a shine to that idea. Kay certainly wouldn’t want to talk to him after that little display, so perhaps the young sister would have a bit more luck. He offered her another respectful nod and turned to run off.

“Thank you again, sister!” he called over his shoulder. “God bless you!”

He saw her wave him off, but if he hadn’t turned his head he would have seen her remove her hood, revealing the frightening visage of Morgana Le Faye.

“Oh, God blesses, sir. But, unfortunately for you, there will be no blessing for you today.”

She turned back to the castle and she grinned a villainous smile.

“Now that that’s taken care of, there’s a certain wizard that needs to be removed from this equation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of yet, this is the last chapter, and I unfortunately must report that I do have other projects I work on, mostly on Deviantart. What's more, my home life can be a bit hectic, too. That being said, I promise to do my best to publish as many chapters as I can, but it is purely dependent on how inspired I'll feel at a given moment. For those that have just come to this story, thank you dearly for the support, and by all means feel free to share your criticisms, so long as they're clean. See you next chapter.


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